


Chasing Snowflakes

by Five_Shades



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Action, Awkward Romance, Dirty Old Darths™, Drama & Romance, F/M, Family Feels, Miscommunication, Sith, minor canon character (mentioned), pureblood, stubborn twi'lek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-05-06
Packaged: 2018-05-22 07:54:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 43,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6071221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Five_Shades/pseuds/Five_Shades
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Pureblood Sith and his twi'lek companion attempt to muddle through their growing feelings for one another, and would both be perfectly content to do nothing at all to move things forward.  Easier said than done when circumstances and busybodies conspire against them.  This is a story that was inspired by a companion quest for Vette.  It sort of took off from there.  Mostly takes place in Ilum.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story contains dialogue that is the intellectual property of EA/Bioware and the brilliant writers that created the SWTOR stories, and as such you may recognize some of these conversations! I added to and embellished for the purposes of my self-indulgent love story. I hope you enjoy! Special thanks to Feravai for the encouragement, feedback and especially for the title idea!
> 
> I drew Varkoor, here he is on deviantArt. I hope it's ok to post this here http://arowell.deviantart.com/art/Sith-Pureblood-colored-600149385
> 
> The Vette in my story is not the default skin. The one I used for her is I believe the #7 customization...the one where she's greenish/yellow with heavy purple eye-makeup.

**Korriban Orbital Station**

  
Varkoor stood in the center of the common room of his starship, his hands clasped behind his back.  He stared at the unlit holoterminal, half expecting the hated silhouette of his former master to materialize with oily promises of power and reward.  The pureblood smirked beneath his dark cowl.  
  
It was over.  He’d triumphed over Darth Baras, and now even the Dark Council feared him.  
  
The quiet hum of the ship’s auxiliary power systems was the only sound.    
  
The hulking Sith Lord rolled his neck and felt a vertebrae pop as the tension finally began to ebb from his body.  They would rest and enjoy this monumental victory.  He knew he’d be hearing from Servant One soon, but right now, Varkoor longed to return home to Dromund Kaas, even if it were only for a short time.  His eyes dropped closed as he imagined the feel of the cool rain on his skin, the constant flash of lightning and the distant sound of thunder.    
  
He sensed Quinn’s hesitant approach from the bridge.  The fear clung to the man like a stench.  Varkoor suppressed a growl of irritation that he still tiptoed around him.    
  
“Quinn, relax.” he rumbled quietly, his back still to the human.  
  
“Yes, my lord.  Thank you, my lord.” Quinn blew out a quick sigh, presumably relieved that his death was not imminent.  
  
Quinn continued to stand there, waiting to be given leave to speak.  
  
Varkoor squeezed his eyes closed and pinched the bridge of his nose.  “Is there something on your mind, Captain?”  
  
He stepped forward to stand next to Varkoor. “Yes, my lord.  There are a few things I wish to address.  First, there are some maintenance—“  
  
His words were abruptly cut off by a shriek coming from the direction of the starboard engine room.  Varkoor’s eyes widened as he turned; he would have been tackled into the holoterminal by Vette rocketing toward him if it weren’t for his honed reflexes.   She was laughing like mad as she leaped into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist, hugging him tightly.  He recovered quickly and took advantage of the opportunity to hold her close, breathing in her scent, even if it would be brief.  As it was, the Sith lord was no fool.  He’d take what he could get, even if she was squealing in his ear.    
  
“She found her! Tivva found her!  Mother was sold—“  
  
Quinn huffed in irritation.  “I beg your pardon, Vette, I was already engaged in conversation with our Lord Wrath and I hardly think such behavior is appropr—“  
  
“—to a Hutt on Tattooine years ago—“  
  
“My lord, if you would allow me, I would like to utilize this downtime to run a comprehensive check of the navicomputer as I am not certain it is calculating the jumps to lightspeed at peak efficiency.  And if you would be so kind, I would have a wor—“  
  
Varkoor waved a hand at Quinn in dismissal, the Vette-shaped barnacle still clinging to him talking a mile a minute.  “Whatever you think best, Captain.  I trust you to handle it.”    
  
Quinn bowed slightly, his annoyance palpable, as he turned on his heel.  “Of course, my lord.”  He disappeared back to the bridge.  
  
Varkoor stood there, a bemused expression on his face as he memorized the sublime feeling of having her clinging to him, even if it were purely innocent.  He knew she was telling him something phenomenally important about her mother, but all cognitive function was shut down to compensate for the hyper awareness of the tiny female quite unexpectedly invading his personal space; a female who happened to have no karking idea what being this close to her was doing to him.  He summoned the control that he’d mastered in the early years of his training and remained stoic.  He wondered how long she would prattle on before she realized she was still in his arms.  His eyes slid to her mouth as she talked and gestured wildly, her little fingers absently tugging on his cowl, bouncing excitedly.  Varkoor tightened his hold on her, his chest rumbling in response to her movements.  She squeaked breathlessly as more words tumbled out.  
  
“—to go meet her as soon as we can!  Can we can we can we pleeeeeaaaseeee?”  
  
Varkoor was fairly certain that if she asked him to go to Tython and perform Gamorrean opera for the entire Jedi Council wearing a cantina dancer’s outfit he would have done it.    
  
He found his voice, irritated that it sounded a bit rough.  “Of course, Vette.  As soon as Captain Quinn completes his checklist regarding the ship, we can be on our way to Tattooine.”  
  
She squealed and bounced again, hugging him tight, burying her hands within the voluminous folds of the cowl that wrapped loosely around his shoulders.  The big pureblood closed his eyes, savoring the feeling, knowing it was about to end.  “Vark, you are the BEST!”  
  
She was the only person in the galaxy who could get away with calling him that nickname and live to tell about it.  He sighed.  She froze, squeaking when she realized her position.  She jerked back and looked at him, stricken, her eyes wide.  She tried to drop her legs from around his waist but the right one got hung up on the hilt of his lightsaber, so she was momentarily very awkwardly squirming in his hold until his left hand dislodged her leg.  He couldn’t resist squeezing her calf as he did so.  She squeaked again, her jaw dropping in mortification.  
  
“Eh…hehehe…sorry…” she mumbled, her pale green cheeks flushing with embarrassment.  She pushed against his chest.  Varkoor took longer than was strictly necessary to gently set her on her feet.  She lurched backward, putting a respectable, professional distance between the two of them.  She smoothed the front of her long duster, readjusting the blaster pistol at her hip.  Her eyes darted around, and finally she glanced up at his face.  He watched her with faint amusement.    
  
“S-sorry!  I-I was so freaking excited, I must have forgotten myself for a minute…”  She rocked on her heels and repeatedly slapped a fist into the heel of her other hand, still blushing furiously, trying and failing to look casual.  Varkoor's gaze hooded and his mouth tipped up on one side.  Her innocence and total lack of guile utterly charmed the big Sith.  He briefly thought of his mother and how she would howl with laughter that he would be so taken by a slave.  But Vette was no slave. 

She was a vibrant and energetic young woman who who had no idea how her silly awkward innocence completely took his breath away.  
  
She was beautiful like this.  
  
“No need to be sorry, Vette.  Good news is meant to be shared,” he murmured. _You can jump in my arms and share any time you want._   Good thing he didn’t say _that_ aloud.  
  
She flashed him a brilliant smile.  His heart sped up like it always did at the sight.  “Thanks, big guy…this means a lot to me.”  
  
Jaesa emerged from the crew’s quarters that she shared with Vette, a look of concern on her face. “What’s all the commotion out here?  Master, is everything alright?”  She peered up at the Sith lord and then at Vette.  
  
Vette forgot her embarrassment at Jaesa’s arrival.  She started bouncing on the balls of her feet and grabbed the young woman’s hands.  “I’ve found my mother, Jaesa!  We are going to Tatooine!”  
  
“Oh Vette, that is wonderful news!”  
  
“It’s been so long since I’ve seen her…what will she think of me?”  
  
“She’ll be thrilled to see you, silly!  Master Varkoor will be accompanying you, I assume?”  
  
“Yeah, as soon as Captain Jackboot finishes all of his chores…” They burst into giggles, lapsing into what Vette once explained to him was known as ‘girl gab’ in which women chattered incessantly, unmindful of those around them.  He usually found it prudent to escape elsewhere to avoid hearing something exceedingly awkward.  They linked arms and drifted to the galley, the Sith momentarily forgotten.  Varkoor let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.  
  
“I’ll be soooo glad to be leaving Korriban,” Jaesa confessed.  “I cannot wait to be as far away from this planet as possible.  The evil intent of the acolytes and overseers alike was stifling.  Some looked at me like they wanted to devour me.  And the darkness in their hearts…” Jaesa shivered.  
  
“Oh _girlfriend_. Let me just tell you about the time I landed my stupid self in the Sith Pokey, see there was this creepy jailor that thought he was _big business_ …”  
  
Varkoor took advantage of Vette’s and his apprentice’s exuberant chatter to slip away to his quarters.  Once the door slid shut, he leaned on it, scrubbing a hand down his face.    
  
He had it bad, and if he didn’t snap out of it, he’d do something really stupid.  If she had any idea how she affected him, or how often she invaded his dreams…she would leave, of that he was positive.  They had a good thing going, a strong partnership.  Over the years she had become…necessary to him.  He trusted her.  She was a refreshing breeze with her witty banter that kept him grounded in this stifling and overbearing world of high level Sith maneuvering, where no one was trustworthy, even so-called allies.  He’d even go so far as to call her friend.  And most importantly, she had never feared him.  He supposed she was the only person in the galaxy who held that distinction.  The thought of her leaving made his chest tighten painfully, and was an idea he couldn’t even contemplate without a faint sensation of panic.  
  
Others like him would suffer none of this torment he currently endured.  They would take what they wanted from her until their desires were sated, feed off of her fear, and choke her into submission, and no one would challenge their right to do so.  One of Darth Baras’s colleagues had at one point mocked him for removing her slave collar, saying he was throwing credits down the drain as slaves like her were exorbitantly expensive.  He’d come a hairsbreadth from killing the man.  The very idea of that device anywhere near her made him nauseous.  
  
No, he would do everything in his power to ensure she never wanted to leave him.  Her feminine presence was making him soft and sentimental, his mind conjuring scenarios and possibilities that were best left within the realm of fantasy.  He imagined taking her far away, some undiscovered place where no one had ever heard of the Empire.  Of course, those thoughts were fleeting.   Vette was a valuable ally whose skills in the field were considerable.  She could crack any door code, slice into any database, disarm bombs…she was remarkable.  Losing her was unthinkable.  Plus, she never expressed any wish for him to pursue her as anything more.  He would accompany her to Tatooine like any friend would, lend his support, and that would be that.  
  
He sat heavily on the edge of his bed, dropping his head into his hands with a growl, his fingers scratching over his shaven head.  No matter what he tried to tell himself, she owned him.  The only good thing about it was that she was completely unaware, and she would bleeding well stay that way.  
  
_You are a Lord of the Sith, Darth Varkoor, Empire’s Wrath, answerable to no one but the Emperor himself…and you’re absolutely unmade by a twi’lek.  Well done._

 

* * *

  
**Mos Ila Spaceport, Tatooine**  
  
Vette felt numbness creeping into her chest walking through the dusty terminal.  Her mother was dead.  Her mind was branded by the picture of the older woman’s body laying on the table in the little shop.  Her ears rang with the sound of Tivva’s angry words that demanded vengeance.  Varkoor’s quiet words encouraging her to kill the Hutt repeated in her mind over and over again. Her chest hurt and her eyes stung, but the tears would not come.  
  
She had been so happy, so bloody excited that her family was going to finally be reunited, only to be too late.  By two _kriffing_ _days_!    
  
While she gallivanted all over the galaxy with a Sith Lord leaving piles of bodies in their wake, her mother had been the property of a disgusting worm.  All this time her poor mother toiled under cruel slavers, and she had done nothing to help her.  She stopped at the railing overlooking the towering windows of the busy spaceport.  She rolled her eyes as she registered the voices and whispers of those around them, everywhere they went, the alarm and fear palpable.  Most days, she didn’t even think about it.      
  
For once could they just be somewhere without people freaking out about the Sith lord?  Her gaze flicked to the cause of the commotion.  Darth _bloody_ Varkoor stood several meters behind her, his face completely shadowed by his cowl, his hands clasped behind his back.  She nearly sneered as she considered his newly bestowed title.  He was nothing like those monsters on the Dark Council.  He was just Vark to her.    
  
Most days, anyway…he was just Vark.  Not today.    
  
He was a terrifying sight.  People scurrying past, giving the Sith lord in their midst a wide berth was nothing new.  She glared a stony wordless accusation at him and turned away.    
  
Today, standing in a greasy spaceport in the Outer Rim, he was the angel of death, who he always was.  He never attempted to be anything else, he’d never hidden it.  She knew this from the beginning.  How had she been able to forget so often, to believe Vark were anything else?      
  
She didn’t know how long she stood there, gazing unseeing out the grimy windows.  She was dimly aware that he still stood there, waiting patiently.  She finally turned and faced him fully.  He hadn’t moved.  Her gaze traveled over the heavy kilt he wore, the intricately patterned chest armor that she had just had repaired last week.  Then, she had rather thought it was pretty, the way the whorls and lines wrapped around his powerful torso. Now, it absorbed the light, it was soaked in blood, no matter how often it was washed, or repaired or remade.  He was darkness.  
  
So what did that make her?  Vette looked down at her pale green hands, free of her gloves, clean and calloused, her fingers slender and her nails neatly trimmed.  She imagined they dripped with blood.  Her right hand clumsily fumbled at her hip for the expensive blaster pistol Vark had had made especially to fit her small hands, one of a matched set.  Power and hatred had surged through her as she pumped salvos of blaster fire at point blank range into the forehead of the Hutt worm who was responsible for her mother’s death, and that of so many others.  He deserved it and the galaxy was a better place now that he was dead.  He caused suffering, so he paid for it with his miserable life.  She squeezed her hands into tight fists.  The feeling of power she’d felt at that moment had made her dizzy with pleasure.  
  
When it faded, she felt like she’d lost herself.  
  
She was death’s handmaiden.  She jerked her head up, her eyes glossy.  
  
He lifted his cowl, letting it fall back to reveal the sharp edged and boyishly handsome face that had become so dear to her over the years…the rich dusky red skin of his Sith heritage was as familiar as home to her.  Was that just what she wanted to see, to close off the reality of just who and what he was?  When she was close to him, she knew she was always safe.  When anyone else looked upon him, did they see a place of safety like she did?    
  
No…his was the face of of their destruction.  She narrowed her eyes, searching the harsh angles and lines of his features.  He could be cruel, relentless…merciless.  That was all she saw now, when she looked at him: a marauder that enslaved her people, ravaged all he touched and gloried in suffering and vengeance, and his deep honeyed voice had urged her to exact her own vengeance, that it would strengthen her.    
  
His thorny brow furrowed over scarlet eyes that glittered with something fierce and unnamed.  It was the only sign that he was aware of her distress.  
  
“Vette, I shouldn’t have—“  
  
She lifted her hand, palm outward, effectively silencing him.  Her eyes flashed dangerously.  “Don’t.”  She closed herself off, even as his glowing red eyes closed in defeat.  
  
With that, she stalked past him toward the hanger without a second glance.  
  


* * *

  
  
Across the main thoroughfare of the seedy spaceport, a squat balding man wearing a grubby tunic was arranging the various refreshments and cheap stims that he was peddling from a decrepit cart.  He whistled through his teeth at the strange drama that played out across the way from him.  
  
“Ain’t never seen the like.”  
  
An equally squat woman who was just as grubby as her husband’s tunic growled as she counted credits from their till.  “What’re you on about?”  
  
He pointed to the giant pureblood Sith who followed several steps behind a wisp of a twi’lek girl who was obviously furious with him if the death glare she’d just leveled at him was any indication.    
  
The old woman grunted.  “Probably caught him dallying with some bit of cantina tart.  Heard them big red fellas have a taste for slave girls just like ‘er. She’d do well ta cut ‘er losses, if that’s th’ case.”  
  
“Karking hell, ya crazy bint!  That there’s one of them Sith lords what can squeeze yer insides with their mind!  Did ya see his lightsaber?  And he’s got that little spitfire givin’ ‘im what for!”  He shook his head again in amazement as the unlikely pair disappeared into the hanger section of the spaceport.  “She must have some sorcery of her own, or she got some death wish.”  
  
The woman cuffed her husband upside his head.  “Or maybe he’s jus’ got a brain in his head and knows when ta shut the kark up, unlike some idiots I know!”  
  


* * *

  
  
Varkoor could stand her silence no longer.  As soon as the airlock to the ship sealed, he grabbed her arm.  “Vette.”    
  
She whirled around, jerking her arm free of his hold.  She just looked up at him, her face awash with misery.  “What?” she whimpered.  
  
The Sith sighed heavily and rubbed his forehead.  He fought the urge to cover his head with his cowl.  It had become a refuge.  He was determined to fix this.  She always looked to him when they were in a tight spot, and he always came through for her.  She’d lighten the mood with a joke, or a well-timed jab at his ‘sithiness’.  She’d remind him he was a little bit insane and then punch him in the arm with a smile that could light up the galaxy.  This would be no different.  
  
Yet, the anger that radiated off of her suggested that he’d miscalculated.  Grievously.  Took something for granted that was never present.  He felt unfamiliar panic.  
  
“I keep seeing that slimy Hutt’s face, Vark…”  Her voice was thin but had a hard edge to it.  
  
He wanted to draw her close, tip her chin up, and assure her that she was guilty of nothing, that her support kept him sane, just the way he always did whenever she got too close to his handiwork.  He protected her from it by being the last thing their targets saw before they died.  She always accepted his reasoning and they were able to move on.  
  
Not this time.  This time she had rained death with her own anger, her own hand.  
  
He’d thought it would give her closure…peace.  To do anything else other than seek vengeance for the murder of someone he loved was unthinkable to Varkoor.    
  
“I should have known it would affect you this way,” he murmured.  His arms ached to gather her to him and cover her.  He didn't dare.  
  
She kept talking as if she didn’t hear him, her stare off to the side unfocused.  “All the bodies, the blood.  The look in Tivva’s eyes…”  
  
He wanted to retreat, to disappear from her sight.  Even if she hated him.  _Please don’t leave_ …  
  
“I thought I could just…let it go…I can’t help blaming _you_.”  Her eyes focused back on his face with laser sharp clarity, brittle and hard.  
  
His jaw clenched with the pronouncement and he wanted to grab her, shake sense into her that she did nothing wrong.  Justice was served.  
  
Instead he held his fists at his sides, sudden anger toward her bubbling forth.  He growled, “I should have done the deed for you…so your hands would be clean.”  
  
She laughed a cold mirthless laugh and shook her head. “You just don’t get it, do you?”  
  
The way she spoke made the panic he had tried to deny swell in his chest.  “I know…I wasn’t thinking…letting you go…”  his voice sounded like someone else’s.  Weak.  Lost.  
  
She was backing away from him shaking her head slightly.  “Yeah…well.  Done is done.  I guess.  Just…stay away from me, ok?”  
  
She disappeared to her quarters.  Varkoor stood rooted to the spot, roiling hatred began stealing over his soul.  It was part of who he was and the emotion empowered him.  He sensed Jaesa’s unease through the Force, her questions and her fear.  He didn’t care.  Potent rage churned within his gut and he wanted to kill every living thing that had ever caused Vette pain, eliminate them, eradicate their worthless lives after drawing out their suffering until his rage was spent. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Dromund Kaas, Kaas City**

The young Alderaanean woman felt as if her limbs were made of jelly as they finally exited the combat training salle. Dromund Kaas had an impressive array of facilities for the Sith to hone and practice their combat skills and she felt like a permanent resident of the one her master had chosen for them. She couldn't help feeling relief that he had called a halt to their training for the day. Her master had been singly focused upon beating her down physically and building her back up.

"You've done well, Jaesa. Your command of the Juyo form is coming together."

"Only because we've done little else the past few days!" she laughed.

"Remember, you can execute these forms by yourself. You can never get enough practice. The training droids are there for your use, here and on the ship."

She sensed the subtle rebuke and bowed her head. "Yes, master."

He fell into step beside her. "You were never taught Juyo by your former masters. Why?"

"It was only taught to a select few…those who were deemed strong enough in the Force to resist the temptation of the dark side."

Varkoor snorted softly. "So the Jedi only want a _select few_ of their acolytes to have an advantage in battle. Foolishness."

Jaesa became more animated. "I always thought that, but who was I to question them?"

"Your command of Soresu is near flawless. But I would have you be ready for all contingencies."

Jaesa beamed at him. "I am honored by your instruction, master."

He nodded in acknowledgment as they walked, the enormous Sith lapsing into characteristic silence.

Jaesa couldn't say she particularly _enjoyed_ the atmosphere of the imperial capital city, with its dolorous mien and somber perpetual darkness; she was, however, grateful for it. Its towering immovable edifices represented safety and a second chance, not only for her, but for those she cared for.

For her, it represented enduring strength. An unflinching face of truth.

Jaesa Willsaam clung to the light, was comforted by it. She was also pragmatic. She was not ignorant to the fact that she was here because of the machinations of a power hungry Sith lord. That Sith lord was now dead, thanks to her new master. He had been just as much a pawn as she.

The dark side energy of this place was curiously non-threatening. She breathed in the ion charged dampness, savoring the clean fragrance of constant rain. Yes, this was right.

She walked a few steps behind her Master through the crowds, the Kaas City open air market buzzing with an almost festival vibe that contrasted sharply with the carefully controlled orderliness of the rest of the city. She was glad for the voluminous cape that hid her face and shielded her from the constant drizzle. She drew strength from Varkoor's presence. He calmed her, their link through the Force growing stronger every day. It was a constant that she had never known with a mentor. She was continually struck by the differences between her current master and former.

Master Varkoor's darkness did not repel her. It instructed and centered her. He urged her to grow in her own powers, whatever form they took. There was no frantic insistence that she suppress her natural emotions or who she was. Jaesa's master was a dark lord of the Sith, and for the first time since becoming a Padawan, she had peace.

Master Nomen's aura had always been a kaleidoscope of shifting emotions and repressed anger, a trait she had attributed to the seriousness and monumental importance of his mission. His burden was so great, so heavy…his enemy so sinister, that she had learned to overlook the darkness within him. She had denied its presence within him because he was a Jedi Master. Jedi Masters preached against darkness of any kind. Jedi Masters didn't use people for their own ends.

They _said_ they didn't, at any rate. In the case of the Jedi, saying and doing seemed to be two different things. Jaesa could not abide such duplicity.

To discover that his own soul harbored all that which he sought to destroy filled her with disgust, not because the darkness was there, but because he had _lied_ about it.

From their first meeting, Master Varkoor was up front with her. He was harsh and terrifying, but he made no effort to hide that fact. Upon their first meeting, he had given her freedom to use her sight on him. From the beginning, he showed her all of who he was, his power, his rage, his cunning, his caution, his disillusionment with Sith politics and falsity. And most shocking, was the small center of light within him. She saw echoes of mercy, of restraint. He covered those things with a scoffing irreverence to the authorities in power. It was a phenomenal revelation, that someone who possessed such devastating power could harbor both light and darkness. It mocked everything she'd ever been taught as truth.

Everything that made him who he was, he showed her that day on Nal Hutta. She had pushed further and saw a scorching energy, a smoldering heat that burned within him, a keening hunger and longing. She had been startled to discover it went unanswered, churning and consuming. He'd swiftly erected his mental barriers when she'd delved too deeply, but she had seen it.

After joining his crew, and meeting the big hearted and sarcastic twi'lek, it did not take long to deduce who the person was that fueled that passion.

His darkness was many faceted. It was true and honest…in all areas but one.

The hulking warrior stopped at a bank of speeders for hire. He spoke quietly to a taxi driver who manned a covered speeder, far more luxurious than most she had seen, then turned to her. "There is some business I must attend to, Jaesa. The driver has been instructed to take you to the tenements in Sector Seven."

Her eyes widened and she sucked in a breath. "You mean…my parents…"

"Yes. I did not wish to speak of it to you until I was certain that the danger to them and to you had passed. With my former master defeated and his network of spies dismantled, you are free to go see them. They know you're coming."

Jaesa had difficulty restraining herself from throwing her arms around the giant pureblood. Such an action would be most unbecoming of an apprentice toward her master. Instead, her happiness surged through the Force. It was met with his usual barriers. Those had become familiar to her. Varkoor's expression softened minutely, but only for a split second.

"Thank you, my Master," she breathed. She couldn't resist grabbing one of his massive hands and pressing it to her cheek. He paused and looked at her quizzically, then nodded.

With that, he slipped out of her grasp and turned on his heel, swiftly getting lost in the crowd of pedestrians that jammed the open air market kiosks of Kaas City. She watched him as long as she could. He was such a terror outwardly, a Sith lord to haunt the nightmares of even the most stout hearted Jedi. But it was these unexpected gestures that proved to her that a Sith was still a person.

Her heart ached for him. Unlike the Jedi, he didn't lie to her, or pretend to be anything he was not. The only person he lied to was himself.

* * *

Varkoor felt a measure of relief to be free of his apprentice. As her master, he had a responsibility to spend time with her working on combat forms and refining saber technique on a regular basis, but her effortless ability to read him was jarring at even the best of times. Her watery gaze just now was too invasive, too probing.

He sighed as he kick started his beat up landspeeder. There was no more putting off his next errand.

The thick forest whizzed past him as he guided his Aratech Eclipse through the the densely packed trees to the southeast of Kaas City. This was home. He knew this terrain, every outcropping, tree root, and foot path…it was all so familiar that he felt he could find his way blindfolded. A laboratory for the Sphere of Technology was not far from Kaas City proper, really just outside the city. He found it soothing to take the scenic route. The blur of foliage as it passed by drove out of his mind the object of his torment.

Aside from Jaesa, the crew had scattered to whatever amusement pleased them. Varkoor didn't care as long as they were back when he was ready to leave. Vette had continued to avoid him, spending much of her time in her quarters on the ship. He told himself that she was still mourning the loss of her mother and the best thing to do was to give her space. So he had thrown himself into an intensive training regimen with his apprentice. Her training had been neglected as of late and he figured their newfound free time was an excellent opportunity to see to Jaesa's continued advancement.

But the Sith lord was beginning to chafe against the continued silence between himself and Vette, the extended downtime leaving his mind distressingly free to dwell upon the intolerable rift that now existed between them.

Thankfully, it looked as if more official business was about to distract him further. He had recently received a heavily encrypted holorecording from the Hand informing him of a rather surprising development regarding the Emperor, and to await their instructions.

Apparently, the Emperor's true Voice had been silenced by none other than a Jedi, who had been aided by his Predecessor, Lord Scourge. Varkoor had grown up hearing stories and legends about this immortal servant of the Emperor. It had even been widely speculated that the Emperor's Wrath was a ghost who couldn't be killed. Lord Scourge had been larger than life in his imaginings, a great warrior that every young Sith held in awed reverence.

Now he was on equal footing with a figure from legends. Varkoor wondered sometimes how he had found himself in this place, this position. With greatness finally his, he chafed.

Varkoor felt no alarm at this news from Servant One. In fact, he was ambivalent. He couldn't help feeling a certain measure of admiration for such a daring act and wondered what the Immortal's motivation indeed was for allying himself with a Jedi.

He arrived at the research facility as the rains let up. He was immediately given clearance to enter the compound, the guards snapping to attention at his approach, their scraping fear washing over him as he swept past them. After passing through several layers of security, he found himself inside a lab, where the guard left him to his own devices. The cavernous room bustled with industrious activity and the hum of centrifuges and other machines of a scientific nature. The center of the room was dominated by rows of towering computer terminals. His massive black cloak shrouded his identity as he waited in the shadows, watching.

Standing at a backlit worktable along the center of the back wall was a striking middle aged woman with dark red hair swept in a elegant bun at the nape of her neck. She was slight and petite in stature, though her bearing suggested she was used to being in charge. She was flanked by two assistants as they all studied the holographic renderings of complex chemical structures and graphs that were projected in 3D relief directly in front of her. Her slender fingers pinched and swiped expertly, manipulating the images to suit her. Varkoor knew that she was aware of his presence, had probably sensed it upon his arrival to this planet, and was now making him wait because he'd taken so long to get around to coming to see her. He allowed her to take her time, to play her little game.

Finally after she had dismissed her assistants, she turned and glided over to him, her glittering crimson eyes the only sign that she recognized him. She bowed slightly in deference.

"My lord, this is an unexpected pleasure," her musical voice caused him to involuntarily grit his teeth.

"We must speak privately, Dr. Kyros," he rumbled, his voice tinged with the slightest annoyance.

"Of course, my lord. My office should suffice for that purpose. _Do_ follow me," With that, she swept past him as if she expected nothing less than for him to obey her command. Her fingers flew over the keys of a nondescript door panel that was situated right next to a data storage terminal.

He followed her through a plain hallway and finally entered a spacious room with one horrendously vast library terminal situated behind a desk that was far to grand for the plain room. The door closed behind them and she turned to face him. The pureblood woman stepped closer and swept his cowl aside, taking his face in both of her hands. A look of fierce pride played across her sharp features.

"Do you have any _idea_ how near impossible it is for me to refrain from boasting to anyone who will listen about my son's triumphant victory and rise to power?"

His mouth tipped up slightly on one side. He _was_ glad to see her. "And yet, you managed. Well done."

She laughed and threw her arms around his neck. He endured her pawing and fussing with the front of his chest armor. "I have been dying for word of you since your fiasco with Baras. I know how appallingly taxing it can be to make one little call…"

_You have no idea how taxing._ He sighed. "Mother, I am here now. I know it will shock you, but this isn't just a social visit."

She sighed dramatically and stepped back from him. "I should have known. Won't you at least escort your lonely over-worked mother to Lord Ujarak's party tonight? You can represent the Dark Council with your presence. It will be good publicity." She smirked slyly. "Severina will be there."

Varkoor growled at the mention of the beautiful and _filthy rich_ socialite. "And you telling me this is supposed to tempt me? If anything, it's a warning to stay away."

"She's sole heiress to her father's holdings and a powerful lord in her own right. _And_ she would drop any entanglement to stand at your side, love."

"I'm not interested in becoming 'entangled'…not in the slightest."

"Then someone else has caught your eye," she probed nosily.

"Not at all. I simply have no desire to become the conquest of a well connected man eater."

Her eyes narrowed. "You've not started dallying with that slave girl, have you? Surely not."

He turned away from his mother, determined to remain civil. "Her name is Vette, and she is _not_ a slave."

His vehemence gave her pause. "Interesting. There's no judgement from me. You aren't the first lord to keep a pretty twi'lek close by for his own personal use." She laughed merrily at him, making Varkoor wish he'd remained at the practice salle so he could decapitate training droids. Such an activity was quickly becoming preferable to having this conversation. "Just see that you don't become sentimental about her."

"I am not _keeping_ her for my _use_!" he hissed.

"What possible reason would you keep her if not for pleasure or labor?" She actually went there. Varkoor pinched the bridge of his nose so hard he winced.

The warrior spoke through gritted teeth, any goodwill he may have felt toward his mother rapidly and predictably evaporating. "She is a valuable…no, _essential_ member of my crew, and has been with me since before I left Korriban."

She blinked rapidly several times, uncomprehending. She then clapped her hands together. "Well, I'm sure you know what you are doing with your own property. It's hardly my business what you do with slaves, as long as you don't become...attached." She giggled as if she had him all figured out. Varkoor rolled his eyes. If she had him figured out where Vette was concerned, she wouldn't be giggling.

"Now then, I would prefer if you picked me up around 7:30. We don't want to be too early. And _do_ wear something less dour, if you please, it's a party, not a funeral—"

Varkoor shook his head in wonder. The woman was relentless when she had her mind made up. He loved her, though. Underneath the henpecking chatter, she was an intelligent and insightful woman. He took her by the shoulders and kissed her forehead. "For your own sake, I'll have to politely decline." He widened his eyes and blanched in mock horror. "I'd probably end up disemboweling someone. You shouldn't risk it, Mother. It would be…messy."

She scowled up at him petulantly, ignoring his attempt at humor. She plucked at imaginary lint on his cloak. "Well, then why are you here, if you insist upon being so disagreeable?"

He scrubbed his hands up her arms in a placating gesture. "I came to see for myself that you were well, and to make sure you aren't doing anything foolish."

She growled dramatically in frustration and pulled away from him. "I'm working sixteen hour days, elbow deep in three different projects. I live in this laboratory, or so it seems," she pouted. She glared significantly at her son. "I hardly _ever_ get out, or do _anything fun_."

Varkoor regarded her with one raised brow ridge, undaunted, waiting for confirmation that she was behaving herself.

She threw her hands up. "Fine! I'm being a good little scientist, keeping my nose clean. No need to worry that I will embarrass Lord Wrath," she groused. She peeked up at him and pursed her lips, one delicate thorny brow lifted.

He enfolded her in his arms, a wave of affection coming over him for this irritating woman. "I worry for your safety, that is all. There is nothing worthwhile to be gained by drawing unneeded attention to yourself on my account. Just be mindful and careful. Promise me."

She softened and grew serious, looking up at him adoringly. "I promise, love. Honestly, Varkoor, I am so buried in research, there is no time for anything else." She closed her eyes and laid her head on his chest. "You always have taken good care of me. I just wish I saw more of you."

He kissed the top of her head and smirked. "I could see if Darth Vowrawn would escort you to this silly party. I believe he's on planet, and the man is unlikely to commit heinous crimes in a crowd of rich drunk lords, unlike me."

She looked up at him, her eyes aglow. "You've met Darth Vowrawn?!"

He snorted in amusement that she seemed to have forgotten his relationship with the Dark Council. "You could say that. I would be dead if it weren't for Vowrawn."

"I've consulted with him once when he toured our main facility. Absolutely _charming_ man! Oh, Varkoor, do call him. He would make a far better escort than my scowling, socially inept son."

An hour later he was blessedly free of his mother, having made the necessary arrangements with the more than conciliatory Vowrawn to escort the 'ravishing Dr. Kyros' to the foppish 'to-do'. The young Sith lord snorted as he realized he'd just set his mother up on a date with an unrepentant lecher. Oh well, she could hold her own, and while Vowrawn was shrewd, deadly, and not to be underestimated, his legendary genteel charm would be all his mother experienced at his hands…that, and likely some well timed groping. She'd love it.

Once again unencumbered, he found himself steering his speeder in a roundabout way in the direction of the spaceport. It had been so long since he'd had the luxury to simply enjoy his surroundings. As if sensing his peaceful solitude, his com beeped, the device rerouting the signal to his earpiece. "Speak."

It was Vette. "Hey. I was wondering if we could talk."

Varkoor's stomach dropped. "Of course, Vette. What's on your mind?"

"I'd rather be face to face. I'm on the ship. Just…whenever is fine." She didn't give him a chance to respond before cutting the transmission.

* * *

Vette heard the hiss of the _Scythe_ 's airlock, but it was Toovee's joyous babbling welcome that told her it was Varkoor who had returned. She checked her chrono, surprised that he'd come so quickly. Her stomach gave an unexpected lurch. She had avoided him for weeks since her mother's death. He deserved more than her silence.

She heard his deep voice, but could not discern what he said. She smiled ruefully at the droid's rambling reply.

"The twi'lek currently occupies the ship's lounge. She has been spending much of her time in her quarters, so it always warms my circuits when she emerges, especially to eat. She is far too thin for a twi'lek of her age and height and is only in the 4th percentile of her species. Perhaps the master could impress upon her the importance of biologic fuel consumption. Would the master care for repast? Perhaps I could prepare—"

The droid was still talking when the Sith's enormous presence filled the doorway to the small ship's kitchen. The first thing she noticed was his cowl did not hide his face. His expression was unreadable…but for his eyes. They glittered with awareness as they zeroed in on her. The twi'lek shivered, wondering if she'd pushed him too far with her moodiness.

"Hi." Her voice sounded small.

"Hello, Vette." His voice was a quiet rumble, soothing like warm Rylothian honey, a familiar sound that she had missed.

She got up from the table and began to prepare his favorite spiced tea. She felt his eyes on her back as she worked. She didn't remember ever feeling the weight of his gaze like she did now.

She closed her eyes as she gripped the edge of the counter. She had missed him, more than she realized. The only sound was the hissing of the kettle as the water began to boil.

"You wanted to speak with me?"

She dropped the sachet of fragrant leaves into an insulated metal mug, poured steaming water all the way to the top and set it on the table opposite her, indicating he join her.

His face softened as he sat. He wrapped his hands around the drink. His eyes never left her face.

She sighed and rubbed her forehead, dropping inelegantly into her chair. "Vark…I've had a lot of time to think. This has been hell."

His heavy brow furrowed. "You've lost someone you care for. It's understandable that you would be out of sorts."

She looked at him in surprise. "Well, yeah…there is that. I…Tivva and I were never close to her. I didn't know her that well. I had hoped…" She fidgeted beneath his intense regard. He seemed to be focused on her every movement. It was unnerving.

His silence was an encouragement to continue. His was a steady presence in her life. Oh, how she had missed him. She took a halting breath.

Her face crumpled and she covered it with both hands, her elbows resting on the table top. "I-I wish I had done something for her. Searched for her sooner." She startled when she felt his big hand slide around the back of her arm. Her skin tingled at the contact and all she wanted was to crawl into his lap and be safe from the galaxy for a while.

The only thing she knew for sure was that he was safety to her.

She looked up into his eyes, tears streaming. "I wasn't really angry with you that day…you did nothing wrong. Vark, I-I'm sorry…" She began crying anew, plopping her head onto her arms, her shoulders shaking with her sobs.

Before she knew what was happening, she found herself being drawn to her feet and into his embrace. She clung to him, forsaking her self-imposed exile from her best friend. That is what he was. Her best and closest friend. She cried for a while, dampening the front of his armor. It felt good to weep and know that she was not alone. Once her sobs subsided to a few hiccups every few seconds, she was all at once enveloped in his scent.

It was faintly electric. Forest and sweat. _Male_.

Vette swallowed hard and was reminded of that moment she had flung herself into his arms in her happiness over finding her mother. It had not been awkward when she had done it. Quite the opposite. It felt natural. She'd often gone back to that moment, recalling the way it felt to be held so close by him. She picked it apart, over analyzing his reaction to her, reading far to much into it, quite likely. She'd literally thrown herself at him. For a few shining moments, the two of them were close. His scent that day…was nice. Like now. His arms around her felt right…like they did now.

Then she had caught herself and had wanted a hole to open up swallow her. Strange that she didn't feel awkward now.

"Shhh. There is nothing to be sorry for, Vette…" he sighed deeply, his big hand moving up to cradle the back of her head, her lekku tingling at the gesture. He looked down at her, regret etching his harsh features. "I should have never let you go kill that Hutt. I am so sorry."

She shook her head, resting it on his chest. She closed her eyes, confused by this feeling of well-being that flooded her soul at his nearness. She made no effort to extract herself from his hold. She murmured, "When have you ever been able to stop me from doing anything?"

He grunted in amusement. "Good point."

"You're a scary Sith lord. I'm your ditzy sidekick. I'm ok with that."

Varkoor held her head in his hands, his crimson eyes searching her face, his thumb smudging her tears from her cheek. "You're sure?"

The flash of vulnerability in his eyes made her feel guilty for avoiding him and his gentle touch made her senses swim. She took a steadying breath. _I must be more sleep deprived than I originally thought._

She looked up into his face, _really_ looked. Something told her it was ok to do so. She'd always looked away, covered with a joke or a snarky comment whenever his gaze lingered on her. Not this time. She nearly fainted at the intensity she saw reflected in his eyes. She cleared her throat in an attempt to get a hold of herself. "Um…I wanted you to know…I'm here for the long term."

He went really still for a moment and he broke into a real smile. He murmured, "You're…staying with me?"

She was warmed by his boyish grin, to the core of her being. "Yup…through all the crazy. I'll be here."

His face became very serious before he actually began to _lean toward her_. Oh yeah, she'd seen _leaning_ before. She'd seen Taunt get the _lean_ dozens of times. She knew what it meant. For one insanely surreal moment, Vette thought Vark was doing it with her and he was about to kiss her.

If she didn't know any better, that's what she'd be thinking. Good thing she knew better.

Her stomach fluttered. What the kark was happening to her? Her legs were turning to jelly and his nearness was making her heart pound like crazy. This was Vark! _Get a hold of yourself, Vette!_

His eyes flicked to her mouth and she nearly kicked herself for instinctively licking her lips. He moved his head closer, his mouth hovering over hers. She closed her eyes in anticipation, her fists grabbing hold of his cowl.

This couldn't be happening.

Right then he seemed to master himself with a strangled sound and gathered her close to him in a fierce hug instead, inhaling deeply at her neck. She squeaked as her feet lifted from the floor for a second. He let out a shuddering breath, warm on the skin behind her ear. She tried without success to ignore how his thorny brow tickled her lekku and his chin tendrils brushed her neck. His words were little more than a growl.

"It's good to have you by my side, Vette…it always has been."

Her arms went around him and she patted his shoulder in an entirely platonic way. She smiled a genuine smile for the first time in weeks. _He's just glad we are all good again. That's all. Calm down, Vette._

"You too, big guy…you too."

Her heart hammered in her chest at the direction her thoughts had gone. _Was that almost a kiss?…there is no stinking way!…what is this, I don't even…?_

How was it possible to feel overwhelming disappointment and crushing relief all at the same time?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I said before, have drawn heavily upon the Empire Ilum story. Some of the dialogue you might recognize, and that, of course, belongs to Bioware and their brilliant writers. I have merely written around their already awesome tale, and added to it for my warrior's and Vette's benefit. Thank you for reading!

**Chapter 3**

**Imperial Base Camp — Ilum**

The twi'lek shivered, wrapping her padded jacket more tightly around herself. No matter how much she bundled up on these Force forsaken ice balls, or in how many layers, the wind still managed to find a way inside her clothes. Her lekku were already going numb and they'd only been here five minutes.

"Didn't we have enough of this type of weather on Hoth?" she grumbled to her Sith companion as they trudged through the snow toward the base.

He made no response but a grunt. Vette rolled her eyes. Ever since they'd made up and had that really awkward and wonderful _leaning_ moment, he'd been distant. He'd always been rather quiet, but his aloof manner with her now convinced her even more strongly that she'd completely imagined there was chemistry between them.

It sure _seemed_ like leaning, but what did she know? It's not like she'd ever even had a boyfriend before to compare the experience against. She suddenly felt really stupid for spending so much of her time agonizing over the finer details of two tiny incidents that he'd probably already forgotten about.

She hurried along beside him, anxious to be inside the base and out of the driving wind. They passed through the main blast door and she looked around, ignoring how Varkoor's arrival caused a small commotion. The Empire had quite an operation going on here, with Imperial military personnel darting here and there, the loud clanging of maintenance crews repairing the massive pipes that snaked along the cave walls sending sparks in all directions. Massive icicles hung from the cave ceiling like colossal knives. The whole place hummed with activity.

An ensign ran up to them, bowing low at the waist before Varkoor. Vette quirked a hairless brow at the man's overdone simpering. "My lord Wrath, I'm pleased you have arrived on planet safely. If you will follow me, Grand Moff Regus awaits you in the Command room."

The man's eyes flicked to Vette, his gaze bright and lustful. He made no effort to be subtle as his eyes travelled openly and hungrily up and down her body like she was a piece of meat. His words made her shudder with revulsion, "I would be honored to look after your… _companion_ …should you have need."

She supposed _companion_ was a polite word for _slave_. She rolled her eyes, exasperated. _As if_ she would ever go off with him! These Imperials were racist against all species but purebloods and humans, but that didn't stop them from being perverts. She was just about to bite out a scathing comment that he might catch a disease from the disgusting alien when the Sith lord at her side took decisive action.

Varkoor's black gloved hand shot out in front of the man, twisting it violently into a fist. "You will not touch her, or look at her, or even think about her. If you do, I will rip out your heart and make you eat it before you take your last miserable breath," he hissed. The ensign's eyes bugged out and his mouth gaped like a fish as his air was cut off by the unseen vice like grip. His hands flew to his throat, the only sound he could make was a strangled gurgling.

Vette gasped in shock and gingerly placed her hands on his outstretched arm, the one that was doing the horrifying choking. "Umm…uhh…" she winced when she heard bones pop and the man's face turned an alarming color. "Maybe, uh…probably should let him go before he—" she winced again when he started twitching, "—dies."

Varkoor's eyes narrowed and his lip curled in a snarl. "You still live only because she wishes it." He jerked his fist one more time for cruel emphasis and immediately released the Force powered choke. The man fell to his knees, taking in great gasps and gulps of air. A few base personnel gawked, but otherwise pretended to not notice. Most of them understood it was best to not interfere with such…discussions.

"Apologies, my lord! Right this way," he wheezed. The man rubbed his throat and coughed, scrambling to his feet.

"Very good, Ensign," Varkoor's voice was smooth as silk. His eyes glowed malevolently beneath his cowl.

Vette stared sidelong at the Sith lord, her brow furrowed in confusion. He'd always dealt swiftly with men who gave her unwanted attention, usually by blocking their view of her with his massive frame or shutting the catcalls down with merely a threatening look. She assumed he was simply protecting her, knowing how uncomfortable such attention made her. Usually just being in his company was enough to keep the perverts at bay, though occasionally, like now, men assumed she was merely a slave, and thus, on the menu and available for use if her owner were inclined to share. When it happened before, Vette herself would lay the man low, backed up menacingly by her huge scary Sithy companion.

Vette swallowed hard, her stomach erupting in butterflies at what she just witnessed. Varkoor had never done _that_ before. She shook her head, bewildered and strangely flattered.

If she didn't know any better she'd think she'd just witnessed a jealous outburst. Good thing she knew better. Sith could be so unpredictable. She trailed after him, her eyes wide.

As they made their way through the cavernous base, Vette noted with amusement that even Imperial resourcefulness could not keep snowdrifts from piling up from the drafts and ice from forming on computer terminals. Crews seemed to be working hard to keep machinery and equipment from freezing up. Even though she could still see her breath in here, at least the wind was kept outside.

Soon they found themselves inside what appeared to be the command hub of the base. A grey haired man in decorated Imperial dress was yelling at someone over the holo, his back to them. The ensign bowed again and hurried away without a word, apparently not eager to put himself in the crosshairs of the cranky Moff right after enraging a Sith lord.

Varkoor watched the Moff placidly, waiting for him to acknowledge their arrival.

"I see three flaws, Major. You've split your forces, you're vulnerable in the air, and you take our enemy for idiots. You think that damn Jedi isn't expecting this? Regus out."

The man slapped his palms on the side of the command table in frustration, cutting the call as he turned to face his visitor.

The Moff's steely eyes briefly flashed with disgust as he glanced at Vette, who stood behind and off to the side of Varkoor, but he made no other attempt to acknowledge her presence. "Thank you for coming, Lord Wrath. If it weren't for the Sith, the Empire would collapse all around us."

Varkoor crossed his arms over his chest. "Spare me your flattery, Regus. Tell me what you need and I will decide what action to take."

The man bristled but then nodded. "We'll get right to business, then. Adegan crystals. Imperial scientists can now transform these glitzy bits of rock into the most powerful stealth technology in the galaxy. We want every ship in the Imperial Armada fitted with this tech. An unstoppable stealth armada." The Moff's expression turned dreamy and far away, apparently fantasizing about an invisible fleet that would crush enemies across the galaxy.

"I take it you've run into trouble, or you wouldn't have secured my aid," Vark drawled.

Vette giggled as she caught the faint sarcasm in Varkoor's voice. She loved the way he subtly mocked Imperial authority at every opportunity, especially insufferable Moffs with overinflated opinions of their own importance. The Moff's eyes briefly cut to her again, the icy venom in his gaze enough to freeze her blood. She stuck her tongue out at him, not giving a flying bantha crap who he was. Varkoor raised a hand in a wordless gesture likely telling her to knock it off. She huffed and crossed her arms.

Moff Regus glowered. "To succeed, we need two things: to control Ilum's crystal supply, and to bring the rest of our fleet safely to Ilum for modification. Ilum's no place for war. Narrow passages, sharp jutting rocks, and the coldest wind you ever felt."

"No kidding, professor…" Vette muttered under her breath, while the Moff continued his tirade.

"That Republic admiral wants a war! He's sent Jedi Master Jaric Kaedan to lead the Republic's elite alien armies on the ground." His words dripped with acid. "Kaedan's pinned us in."

"So you need me to deal with this Jedi. A simple enough task, though if waging war here is logistically difficult for the Empire, it will be no easier on the Republic. What I want to know is why Imperial Special Forces couldn't handle an over eager Jedi," he growled, stepping closer to the Moff and towered over him.

Vette covered her mouth to suppress a snort. Now Vark was laying on the 'why are you wasting my time' intimidation. Unfortunately, the Moff was undaunted by Vark's ire, apparently so preoccupied and frazzled that he didn't notice.

"The Jedi think of Ilum as their planet. Only two of them were here when we arrived. But they have ruins scattered around the place. The ruins housing Jaric Kaedan's base are too small for anything but a strike team, and they're surrounded by cliffs full of Duros shocktroopers—"

"I'm still waiting for you to get to the part where Imperial military Special Forces are unable to deal with one Jedi, though from what I heard upon arrival, your men seem a few steps behind," Varkoor interrupted.

Regus shook his head in frustration, clearly vexed, "You don't know the half of it, my lord, when you get out there, you will see what I mean. Our forces have already suffered heavy casualties. Kaedan and his men are entrenched and aggressively prepared to defend this planet's crystals. I have set up fake supply depots to lure the shocktroopers out in the open. I need you to thin their numbers so your strike team can get in to Kaedan at the ruins and take him out. This mission is urgent, my lord, and I need the best to handle it." He was then called away by an aide, bowed sharply to Varkoor, and stalked off.

As they were walking out, Varkoor glanced at her, then quickly averted his eyes. "Get Jaesa. I will need her for taking on this Jedi. You, Pierce, and Broonmark will handle the supply depots. Quinn is seeing to duties aboard the ship."

Vette frowned, annoyed by the pang of jealousy that he chose Jaesa to accompany him, though she squashed the unwelcome feeling as absurd. Of course it made sense that he have his apprentice with him when he faced a Jedi. She tried to keep things light. "Divide and conquer, eh?"

He nodded abruptly, and without a word strode out of the base, his dark cloak billowing behind him. The usual path opened for him as people scurried out of his way. She sighed and tapped on her wrist com to summon her crew mates.

* * *

Varkoor clenched his jaw as he steered his speeder through the icy wilderness, heading roughly in the direction of the coords of the ruined stair. Jaesa was close behind him. He was careful to keep his emotions walled off from the young woman. Her uncanny gifts were sometimes a nuisance, though he was grateful for her presence at this particular time. He would need her martial skills for their upcoming confrontation with the Jedi master.

He wanted to kick himself for letting that ensign get under his skin like that. Vette must think him a lunatic, if the look she gave him was any indication.

He'd wanted to gut that pathetic human for daring to look at her that way…like she were an object to be used. The fact that Vette was an exotic beauty was not the only reason why she had garnered such attention from the ensign…no, it was because it was presumed her purpose was single focused, and that _he himself_ used her…he growled to himself. He hated that people made such a foul assumption about her. She was beautiful, desirable, oh _hells_ , how he wanted her. He ground his teeth. He knew she could handle herself, so why would he want to kill some puny ensign for doing what dozens of men did all the time?

Why, indeed?

It was because He wanted her for himself, and wished for no other to lay claim to her. He did not want to even think about what he would do if she actually responded favorably to another man's interest. But he had no right to do anything, if she wished to be with anyone else, and that truth tore him up.

Her scent, the feel of her in his arms, haunted him. The imagined taste of her lips, that he'd almost allowed himself to feast upon, plagued him. Her nearness was beginning to drive him mad, if this burgeoning possessiveness didn't do the job first. He'd held her in his arms, even if innocently, and had nearly given in to the temptation to show her just how she affected him. She was so close, right there, all the time…yet, she was out of his reach, his fear of her reaction, fear that she would flee should he give in to his feelings kept him silent. It was torture.

But he would continue to endure that torture rather than risk her leaving. He could not conceive of the alternative.

They pulled over into a cluster of giant ice shards and hid their vehicles. The base of the stairway to the ruins was not far. They would have to pick off the shock troopers in small clusters, if the intel they'd been given was to be trusted. The bulk of the Duros troopers that were supposed to be guarding this area were now hopefully being ambushed and destroyed at the bait supply depots Regus had set up. The thinned numbers of the shock troopers coupled with the hidden Imperial back up troops would help ensure they reach Kaedan.

Varkoor tightened the wide leatheris belt around his torso and over his insulating robes, glancing over at his apprentice. She was checking her saber staff, and shoving a small blaster in a thigh holster. He noticed she also wore a tactical belt with a few thermal detonators attached. Varkoor raised a brow. The girl's practical and pragmatic nature was a bad fit for the Jedi Order, that was no secret, but he found her quirks entertaining, if a bit unconventional. He noticed also that she was faintly glowing, evidence that she was utilizing the Force to stay warm.

She huffed primly in defense of her extra ordnance. "You never know, Master."

"I make no judgements, Jaesa. Remember your training, that you can regulate your body temperature with the Force, but do so only in the greatest need. Otherwise you will find yourself exhausted."

"Yes, Master. Forgive me for prying, but you seem troubled." her gaze was compassionate but penetrating. "Is there anything I can do?"

Varkoor looked away quickly as he shoved his newly acquired face mask in place, effectively shielding himself from her probing stare. He knew the action was useless against her powers, but it made him feel better, at any rate. He sighed, refusing to answer her question. "Let's go, Jaesa."

She fell into step beside him as they made their way to the base of the ruined stairway. "I know what plagues you, Master. It pains me to see you suffer. If you would just tell—"

"It is not your concern, apprentice. Focus your mind on our task," he replied sharply.

"Yes, Master."

His com beeped, much to his relief. It was Pierce. "Boss, the depots are clear. None of them Duros escaped. Your mission's a go. Vette was also able to reprogram the automated defense turrets."

"Excellent, Major. Proceed back to the base and keep an eye on her. Anyone comes near her, you have my leave to deal with them. We shouldn't be long."

Pierce saluted. "Yes, my lord."

"Varkoor out."

He felt Jaesa looking at him as he replaced his com within his robes. She wisely selected to hold her peace about his curious instruction to Pierce. He jerked his head forward, cutting off any further discussion. They made their way to the top of the stairs where a group of Duros patrolled beneath a towering ruined archway.

Varkoor and his apprentice exchanged a wordless glance as Jaesa crept silently along the opposite flank of the ruin, making for a cluster of troopers further in. The plan was to neutralize as many of them as possible before the entire squad of them figured out what was going on, otherwise they'd be overwhelmed. Varkoor's gaze zeroed in on the closest troopers, his vision bleeding red as he drew upon the Force to propel himself forward, the augmented leap driving a kick into the first soldier's face. His lightsaber snarled to life before he landed, the red blur being the last thing the troopers saw before their heads were separated from their necks.

He heard the distinct report of heavy cannon fire over his shoulder, knowing that the rest of the squad would now be alerted to their presence. He swore under his breath, worried for Jaesa, but was quickly reassured as her spinning double bladed saber staff efficiently deflected the relentless salvos aimed at her. The aliens snarled, all of their focus upon gunning down the fleet footed woman, frustrated by their inability to breach her defenses. They were too stupid to attempt a close range assault, which might have given them a chance. As it was, firing their weapons at her proved useless.

Varkoor smirked in satisfaction to note just how proficient his apprentice was in distracting large groups of enemies, while avoiding their fire. She didn't manage to get in hits in of her own, but that did not seem to be her goal. This was jus the opening he needed. Their eyes met across the expanse and Varkoor growled in approval at her cleverness. Instead of utilizing stealthy aggression like he'd planned, she'd played on her strengths employing distraction. Maybe all of her extra precautions weren't so silly after all as he noticed the telltale shimmer light up around her every time a blaster bolt made it past her lightsaber. Good girl. She'd even brought a shield generator.

Pride surged through him, empowering his next Force augmented charge. The Duros troopers howled in rage as they were quickly cut down by the surprise attack of the black and red blur that appeared behind them. Varkoor swept his arms wide, knocking them forward and off balance, with a rippling whoosh of telekinetic energy.

He roared as he hurled his lightsaber in a wide arc right before he crashed his durasteel plated foot into the side of the head of the soldier closest to him. He narrowly dodged a rifle butt to the face and shoved his hand outward with at snarl, Force power driving his attacker back several yards and into a weathered block of stone, knocking him out. His other arm was outstretched, waiting for the hilt of his spinning blade to slap back into his palm right after it hewed through the remaining Duros.

It was over in moments, Varkoor left crouching among the bodies of their enemies. He straightened and checked his young apprentice over for injuries, glad to note that only her robes were a bit singed from missed blaster shots.

"Well done, my apprentice. You have grown powerful."

She grinned happily at his praise, panting from her exertion. "I'm sorry I deviated from the plan, but something told me this would work."

"You thought quickly on your feet, like any powerful warrior with a will to dominate."

Suddenly, Jaesa growled, fumbling at her belt for one of her many grenades, her face panicked. "Master!" she hissed, her sharp eyes focused upon a point over his shoulder at the advancing figures. He stilled her hand from her belt, his eyes confident. He'd detected the approach of the Jedi lieutenants before she spoke, but he chose to allow his rage to churn to overflowing, anticipating their righteous fury and eager to siphon it into his attacks, turning it back upon them into their own fear and terror.

"Calm yourself, Jaesa. You are a an unstoppable bulwark against these Jedi. You don't need firepower to overcome them. Look into their hearts and plunder their hidden darkness!"

Jaesa took in his words and he felt her fear ebb. "Yes, Master," she whispered. She stood up and took her place beside him, her head bowed. When she looked up again, her eyes glowed serenely with a bright timeless sight. The three hulking Jedi warriors soon had them flanked on all sides.

"You are not allowed upon these holy grounds, Sith! Turn back the way you came, implore your Empire to leave this place, never to return. This is your first and only warning. We do not wish for bloodshed."

Varkoor's lightsaber snarled to life. He smirked beneath the inquisitor's mask his mother had given him on his last visit to her, an heirloom of their family. It was a curious head piece, unlike any he'd ever seen with its horizontal metal bars, resembling almost…a cage, designed to inspire horror. The Force had surged in recognition when she'd handed it to him, as if it were waiting.

A shudder of potent rage that was not his own, that demanded vengeance, awakened in him. He recalled his mother's murmured words as she presented it to him. _It belonged to my father. It's yours now. May his power live on in you, my son._

Varkoor's stance was relaxed. His blood pounded in his ears as he spoke to these hated Jedi. "I have come for your Master, Jaric Kaedan, Jedi. Turn him over to me now," he rumbled with calm assurance.

"You will not advance another step, Sith. Turn back. Now." Even as the middle Jedi calmly spoke the words, his blue lightsaber flared to life, along with those of his comrades.

Jaesa hummed quietly, her hands clasped before her chest. She looked up and stared directly at the middle Jedi. "You are eager for the kill, Jedi. Your blood sings with desire for violence, despite your words to the contrary. It festers within you all."

The Jedi's calm exterior faltered and he glared at Jaesa. "What? I—no! I wish for you to leave! This is a sacred place. It is not our wish to fight you—"

"You are glad we came. You welcome our trespass. How you long to lash out at me to justify your secret desire for greatness in battle. You would cut me down and pretend to mourn outwardly, yet glory inwardly."

"Sith snake! Your sorcery will not deceive us! Knights, these Sith came to take that which does not belong to them. Defend the birthright of the Jedi!" The Jedi charged, their eyes flashing.

Varkoor growled in exultant ecstasy, the rage of these Jedi so glorious. It coursed through his body, inflaming the Force within him like an inferno. His limbs vibrated with the power of their anger. He stood still, his lightsaber growling as he swung it in lazy circles. The sound was a taunt. The trio bellowed, charging directly at Jaesa, her words filling them with fury, and blinding them to their doom.

Right at the last minute, Varkoor moved to block their assault with a deafening roar that knocked them off their feet. They quickly recovered, even more infuriated than before.

The Sith and his apprentice calmly blocked and parried the rage fueled strikes of the three Jedi, deliberately allowing these paladins of the Light to show themselves for the frauds they were. The Sith felt nearly drunk with conduits of raw power that coursed through his body. Jaesa and Varkoor stood back to back, both of them deftly blocking, parrying and interrupting the careless barrage. As one, master and apprentice turned the Jedi's fear fueled onslaught against them.

Suddenly, Varkoor leaped straight up into the air with a triumphant roar, landing with tremendous force upon the ground behind the three as they attempted to get an opening on Jaesa, momentarily causing them to stagger disoriented. Again, she demonstrated her skill as a mighty bulwark of battle, her movements sure and precise, her skill with dodging their blows uncanny. She calmly executed her defensive blows, directing the Jedi's hate back at them.

The Sith lord took that opportunity to choke one of them with the Force, instantly collapsing his windpipe, his hand curling into a cruel fist. As that one fell, he snatched the other one to him, again calling upon the power of the Force, impaling the man upon his waiting lightsaber as his body sailed toward him. The Jedi cried out and slumped to the ground.

The last one was quick to fall as Jaesa picked that moment to release the surge of hate fueled anger that she'd wrenched from deep within his heart, screaming in defiance as she hurled it back at him. She thrust her blade into the Jedi's chest, pushing him off of her as his body slumped over.

The two of them looked at one another as the haze of battle cleared. Varkoor inclined his head respectfully at his apprentice, impressed with her prowess. She bowed in response. "What do you say we bag us a Jedi Master now?" Her words made him laugh out loud. Between this strange young woman and a certain enchanting twi'lek, Varkoor had no shortage of random entertainment.

* * *

Flanked by his crew, Varkoor made his way back to Grand Moff Regus, unconcerned that he had an eight foot Talz warrior with him, or that these Imperials might be offended by the creature's presence. Let them bluster. Broonmark had contributed to the success of the mission, and he deserved recognition for his deeds, the same as Pierce and Vette. Their mission was a complete success, every phase of it. The confrontation with Jaric Kaedan went much the same way as the one with his lieutenants, the man was unprepared for Jaesa to strip him bare and expose his weaknesses, thus affording Varkoor almost instant opportunity to cut him down.

Vette walked beside him, her head held high and a defiant expression on her lovely face. He had difficulty tearing his eyes away when she offered him her crooked goofy grin. It was enough to lift his mood considerably. He was careful to keep his expression guarded.

Varkoor's ears pricked in interest when he heard the Moff's angry voice carrying through the passageway. It sounded as if he were arguing with someone rather heatedly. The Sith lord paused and turned to his crew, looking at each of them from under his cowl.

"You all know the routine. Do not speak. This Moff is skittish and wary. Show him my crew is a wall of strength."

"Sure thing, boss," Pierce's good ol' boy demeanor was ever present. Varkoor nodded.

"Yeah, he's a demanding gasbag," grumbled Vette. Jaesa giggled and elbowed her.

Pierce shrugged, "Might stand t' learn sumfing," He grinned at the women, and tapped his ear. "Listenin's the thing, now, half pint."

Vette stuck her tongue out at the big burly soldier. "Well, this guy loves the sound of his own nasally voice, so there'll be plenty to listen to."

"I know how challenging it is for you t' refrain from talkin' for more'n five minutes. Just do your best, then, love, that's a good girl," Pierce casually goaded the twi'lek.

Vette's jaw dropped and she scowled at the soldier, Jaesa hanging on to her arm snorting giggles. "I can _so_ be quiet! Can't I, Vark? I do it all the time!" Varkoor cleared his throat and crossed his arms. He raised a brow, exchanging a manly look of understanding with the major. Pierce hooted in glee. Jaesa laughed even harder.

Pierce narrowed his eyes and smirked at Vette. "I'll bet ya 75 credits and a case of Old Janx you won't be able to resist makin' some smart remark in there. That Moff'll bring it out in ya."

Vette slapped his palm in a mannish handshake. "Oh it's on, now, laser brain. Better be ready to pay up."

Jaesa wiped her eyes, still tittering, "Sorry Vette, my money's with Major Pierce."

"Aww, Jaesa, not you too! We're s'posed to stick together against these guys! Sheesh, I get no respect…" Vette grumbled in mock outrage, shaking her head with her hands on her hips.

Vark shook his head and motioned it was time to report to the Moff on their mission. As they walked in, Vette pantomimed zipping her lip with a flourish. She snuck him another silly smirk and winked.

_Stars, she keeps me sane._ He grunted at that unexpected thought.

They walked into the command hub and were greeted with the sight of Regus arguing with an incredibly intimidating Sith lord, with whom he conferred over the holo. Half the man's face was hidden by some sort of respirator, but the rest of him was fit and hale, garbed in heavy black armor, standing impassive and aloof.

"This is a military matter, Malgus! You will not insert yourself in my affairs!" Regus bawled indignantly.

Varkoor felt a cold shaft of mistrust as his gaze came to rest upon the holoprojected image of this 'Malgus'. All of his crew but Vette moved to stand unobtrusively further behind him. He found himself grateful that she remained by his side. She was frowning as she regarded the Sith on the holo.

The Sith spoke in bland, mild tones, but there was no mistaking his calculating intent. "You appealed to the Dark Council for help, Moff Regus." His penetrating gaze came to rest upon Varkoor. "Here I am."

Varkoor glared right back and announced to Regus without breaking eye contact with this Sith, "The Jedi, Master Jaric Kaedan has been eliminated, along with his Duros army. The depots are clear and defense turrets have been armed and programmed."

Regus whirled around to face Malgus, his voice sarcastic, "See Malgus? We have everything under control."

"Members of the Dark Council are not convinced." The Sith's unflappable patience with the Moff's blatant insolence was unnerving. His cold unblinking eyes once again came to rest upon Varkoor. "I am Darth Malgus. I'll just be…observing, for the time being." His voice dropped lower as he ever so slightly inclined his head. "Lord Wrath."

The pureblood seethed. He'd heard of this Sith on occasion, but had never met him. He knew he'd commanded the Expeditionary Fleet, but knew little else. And now, here he was, claiming to represent the Dark Council's interests in this operation. There was something about him that set every nerve ending on edge.

* * *

Vette was hyper aware of Vark's agitation. His entire demeanor had shifted to something brooding and wrathful as soon as he laid eyes upon the scary Sith on the holo. She had to admit…the guy's presence screamed danger with a dash of awful.

The meeting wore on, the men discussing strategies for winning over an army of Kaleesh mercenaries that had taken over the Empire's only functioning crystal mine. Regus just wanted to slaughter them all. She snuck a look at Darth Malgus. His words _sounded_ reasonable. They made sense, which caused a tingle of warning to skate up her lekku. Vette was positive there was not one thing reasonable about him beneath the outward calm. She was exceedingly grateful he was not here in person. The room was already chilly enough.

"The _victory_ on Corellia cost us nearly a tenth of our forces. That's hardly a rate of attrition we can support, is it?" Darth Malgus intoned with a slightly mocking edge. Again, he made terrible sense.

Regus threw up his hands and drawled sarcastically, "Does that observation have something to do with the mission at hand, Malgus? We need the mines and those Kaleesh animals are in our way! Do try and stay focused upon the topic at hand!"

Vette thought Regus might have a death wish, though ordinarily she usually enjoyed watching people totally disrespect dark lords, but still. Didn't he know angry sithy types liked to choke people even when they were groveling?

Malgus maintained admirable restraint, his words enunciated as if he spoke to a child. "You would destroy potential allies for being aliens, when they could bolster our dwindling forces with their numbers. I say, win their respect, and they will defend the crystal mine to the death…for the Empire!"

The Moff was nearly apoplectic. He bit out, his nasally whine dripping with disgust, "Aliens! You want us to recruit aliens into our very ranks, sullying our proud Empire? Malgus, have you lost your mind?"

Vette bristled, her mouth dropping open in an outraged gasp. Looked like she was out 75 credits and some booze, because she was about to go _alien all over his face_. With an angry toss of her lekku she sputtered, "Now you listen to me, you scrawny Imp blowhard, son of a kath hound Hutt slime windbag—"

Vark held a hand up and interrupted her colorful insult, shooting her a warning look, "The Empire should not be so quick to dismiss potential allies just because of their heritage." Vette clamped her mouth shut and sniffed, her glare still fixed upon the Moff. _You tell him, Vark!_

Darth Malgus replied, his words tinged with dark humor. "It would seem our Lord Wrath is progressive in his thinking as well, if one observes his own diverse… _allies_. The way he purred the word 'allies' caused her to glance up at his holo image.

She froze, that frission of warning skating up her lekku again, screamed _danger incoming_ , because Darth Malgus was staring right at her. Intently. Like he was _starving_. He wasn't just casually observing her. He was _hunting her_. Like that slimy ensign. How was that even possible over the holo? She felt rooted to the spot.

_Emperor's frilly nightgown, this is bad_.

Varkoor growled and came to her rescue, firmly planting himself in front of her, effectively blocking her from Darth Malgus' view. She sagged in relief, whimpering against his back. It was handy having her very own Darth to protect her from all the other ones that fancied twi'lek for breakfast, or in this case, some other terrifying purpose. She decided drawing attention to herself over racist Imperials being racist was not her brightest moment of genius.

* * *

Varkoor's vision was bleeding crimson on the edges. Vette clutching the back of his cloak from her hiding spot behind him was the only thing keeping him from destroying the holoterminal. Regus blathered on, oblivious.

"I'm in charge of this operation, not Malgus!" He whirled back around to face Varkoor. "I don't care if you get drunk with the Kaleesh and trade war stories, as long as you _kill them_ when you're finished!" Moff Regus' face was red and he shook with frustration.

The Moff was bleating something about the Kaleesh and their mission, but all Varkoor could think of was Malgus's predatory stare directed at Vette.

Vette was _not a slave_ , and she was _not for sale!_

He would end Darth Malgus. Somehow. It was a certainty. The vow calmed him. Time to be done with this meeting.

Varkoor turned all of his focus upon the frantic Moff, pointing his finger at him, his eyes flashing. He growled, "You _dare_ order me about like one of your lackeys? You forget your place… _Moff_."

All the fight seemed to go out of Regus and he held his hands up. "Apologies, my lord, I certainly mean no offense! We both want to win this war."

"I will secure the Pontite Crystal Mines and the Kaleesh mercenaries for the Empire. They will join us, as allies, and you _will_ cooperate with that endeavor. Do I make myself clear, Moff Regus?"

Moff Regus radiated belligerence, but was wise enough not to argue. He bit out, "Yes, my lord."

He shot a murderous glare at the Sith on the holo, who placidly observed the proceedings. Varkoor's next words were for him just as much as for Regus, "Trifle with me at your own peril."

Varkoor turned on his heel and strode out of the command hub, his crew right behind him. He didn't wait for anyone as he muttered, "Everyone back to the ship. Now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'eeew factor' courtesy of Darth Malgus lol


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"Captain Quinn, I need a secure holonet channel to the conference room. Get me Darth Vowrawn." Varkoor charged into the ship, sending Toovee into a tizzy.

"Yes, my lord, right away," the captain snapped to attention and scurried off to do his master's bidding. Varkoor disappeared into the conference room, the door shutting behind him.

"You can wait till we hit the next spaceport to get me my case of Old Janx…you'll get a better deal, love!" Pierce crowed good naturedly as he sauntered to the galley. Broonmark was burbling in what sounded like amusement as he headed straight for the training dummy Varkoor had installed in the cargo hold. It could have been a laugh, or a death threat. There really was no way to know with the Talz.

"Yeah yeah, whatever…," Vette mumbled sourly as she wandered over to the jumpseat near the holoterminal and collapsed. Jaesa craned her neck to make sure Pierce had gone to the other side of the ship before she plopped herself down next to the brooding twi'lek.

"Don't sweat it, Vette. That Moff was ridiculous. Pierce got lucky with that bet."

Vette grunted. "I've been around a lot of them in my time, but he was a whole other class of snob."

"What was with that Darth on the holo, anyway? He was terrifying!" Jaesa asked in hushed tones.

"I know, right?!" the twi'lek muttered sullenly and hugged her knees.

Jaesa laid her hand on Vette's arm. "You gonna be alright? That was pretty intense back there."

"Yeah…just creeped out and sick to death of all these…perverts," She rested her chin on her knees and blew out a sigh.

"What?! You mean there was more than just…besides Darth…what's his name. Malgus." Jaesa shivered.

"Oh, there was this slimy ensign who met us when we first got here. He perved out on me with that look, you know the one, like he was checking out the merchandise…"

She sighed at Jaesa's blank stare. "Yeah, you're human in the Empire, and so you're spared the constant discrimination. My people are big business for Imps. Sith and particularly purebloods, have a thing for owning twi'leks. It's pretty much assumed where ever we go that I am Vark's personal…um…well, his slave. As in _really_ personal, if you get my meaning. Some jerk apparently thought I was…available. For…um…use." She scowled darkly.

Jaesa gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. Her prudish sensibilities were scandalized. "That is _disgusting_. Vette, I had no idea you went through that."

"Eh…I've gotten used to it. It doesn't do any good to make a huge deal out of it. It helps that Vark doesn't put up with it."

Jaesa was indignant. "I should think he wouldn't!"

"Usually, he just glares with his sithy glare of impending doom and it's enough for them to get the message."

"I hope Master reprimanded this ensign for such inappropriate behavior!"

Jaesa raised a brow in interest when Vette flushed and suddenly looked embarrassed. "Eh…yeah, you could say he did. In fact, I had to stop him from…um, choking the guy to death…with the Force," She looked sheepish.

"Master Varkoor? You mean…he did the whole…" she wrapped her own hands around her neck in a clarifying gesture and paled, "…invisible strangling thing? To some Imperial peon? Just for looking at you?"

"Yeah. It was…it kinda surprised me. He's never done that before. Or threatened to rip out someone's heart and make them…eat it…" she shuddered.

Jaesa leaned closer to Vette, smug and grinning. " _Please_ tell me that you are finally starting to catch on."

Vette snorted indelicately. "What, that Imperials are disgusting perverted hypocrites? I've known _that_ since Korriban. Jailer Knash, let me tell you, he was the _worst_. He kept the shock collar setting turned all the way up to eleven, but it sure didn't stop him from—"

"No, stupid! I'm talking about Master Varkoor! He—" she looked around to make sure they were still alone and dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "He… _cares_ for you!" she hissed.

Vette rolled her eyes. "Well, _duh_. I've been on his crew for years, and he hasn't fired me or anything…yet."

Jaesa huffed impatiently. "Seriously? You are both so kriffing stubborn! I'm going to have to spell it out for you, aren't I?"

"Spell out _what_?"

Jaesa gently but firmly took Vette's head in both her hands and looked sternly into her sweet, baffled, _utterly clueless_ face. Stars above, she really didn't have any idea. She sagged and gave the twi'lek a kiss on her forehead. "He's gonna kill me," she breathed to herself.

Vette quirked a brow comically, her face still smushed in Jaesa's hands. "Huh?"

Jaesa focused her stern gaze back onto her friend, "Vette, how do you feel about Master Varkoor?"

Vette's eyes widened. "Um…well, I—he's…um," then she flushed, pulling her head out of Jaesa's hold. "Why are you asking me this?" she whispered brokenly. She wouldn't look her in the eye. Jaesa's face softened, her suspicions confirmed.

"Because. I believe he feels the same way about you."

Vette looked shocked and then panicked. She glanced around furtively as if she expected someone to be eavesdropping. "Jaesa, will you _shut up_? He does _not_!" she hissed.

"So you _do_ have feelings for him."

"I—I didn't say that!"

Jaesa smiled indulgently and cooed, "D'aww. You do. It's so adorable."

Vette growled, her pale green cheeks flushing a darker shade as she covered her head with her arms, "You are _insane_!"

"You know what?" Jaesa said softly, a dreamy smile on her face, ignoring her friend's ire. "I don't care if it's none of my business. I _know_ Master is in love with you, Vette. I have _seen_ it. I looked inside of him when I first met him. I wasn't sure what it was…until I met you, and all the pieces fell into place. There. I said it. May the Dark Side take me if I'm wrong." She jerked her head in an emphatic nod.

Vette looked stricken. "You _are_ wrong, Jaesa. I—no, it's impossible. You've got too many trashy, sappy romances on your holoreader and they're making you… _weird_." Vette stood up to walk away, but Jaesa tugged her back down on the jumpseat, eliciting a whine from the petite twi'lek.

"Answer me this, then. Why would he lose his mind like that over an insignificant Imperial lackey giving you the eye, albeit a filthy one?"

"I don't know! Because it was _gross,_ and _awful_ , Vark knows it upsets me."

"So you're saying he almost murdered a guy in the middle of an Imperial base…because he _doesn't want you to be upset_?" she challenged incredulously.

"No! I mean, yes! Urrgh…of course not! It was just…that one time," she chewed her lip.

"Could it be, and I may be stabbing in the dark here, but _could it be_ the sight of another man openly desiring you makes him insanely, murderously jealous?" Jaesa didn't think she could be more obvious.

Vette remained doggedly obtuse. "He's a Sith! They don't need a reason to be violent."

Jaesa kept talking as if she hadn't heard her, "Then Darth Malgus practically devoured you with his frightening…whatever the pervy hell that was earlier," Jaesa shuddered. "Vette, I am not exaggerating when I tell you I felt black murder in the Force, all coming from Master Varkoor."

The twi'lek groaned. "We are not having this conversation! Look, I know you have special powers and all that, but I am telling you…this time you are _dead wrong_. He could never ever see me that way. It's impossible and completely ridiculous. To his people, I am a slave. Property. I know _he_ doesn't treat me that way, but—"

Jaesa gently probed, "What about you, Vette? You still haven't answered my question."

Vette's shoulders sagged and her eyes were suspiciously bright. "Please, let's just drop it, ok?"

She swiftly padded out of the common and disappeared into the starboard engine room. Jaesa dropped her hands to her lap and she blew a sigh through her bangs. _Blast. That went well_.

Master was going to be furious with her. Yep, for meddling. Sticking her nose where it didn't belong. But Jaesa couldn't find it within herself to care. Watching these two was becoming painful.

* * *

It took some time for Quinn to patch through the secure connection via the Holonet, but it wasn't long before the familiar form of Darth Vowrawn flickered into view in the center of the conference table. Varkoor paced, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Ah, Wrath. The Force trembles in these old bones. I was just about to make contact with you."

Varkoor glowered. He didn't waste time with pleasantries. "Tell me about Darth Malgus and why the hell he's on Ilum."

Vowrawn raised a brow ridge. "I take it by your sunny disposition, you've had a run-in with him."

Varkoor bared his teeth and growled, his frustration with megalomaniac Sith at an all time high. "He claims to represent the interests of the Dark Council, but I don't believe he's being entirely forthcoming."

"The Council has sent Darth Arho to oversee Dark Ice. Malgus's involvement is…troubling."

"It's a wonder the Empire doesn't implode on itself," Varkoor muttered uncharitably, rubbing his forehead.

Vowrawn chuckled, "There are times I agree with you."

Varkoor sneered sarcastically, "I suppose he came to assist Darth Arho and be a team player, then."

"That is not likely, my dear Wrath. Malgus despises the man, openly calls him a thug. It's no secret that Arho lacks, how shall I say it…restraint in matters of warfare. He adopts a more 'destroy at all costs' approach. A brutal military leader with a stellar track record…but he's got the finesse of a bull gundark in rut. Malgus could be an asset if I didn't believe he had ulterior motives…which I do.

Varkoor glared, considering this information. "Regus doesn't seem to trust him."

"Of course he doesn't, but for entirely predictable reasons. Malgus believes the Empire has outdated views about 'purity' and should adapt by allowing aliens to be citizens. Regus is a traditionalist."

"Hmm…on that count, I grudgingly agree with Malgus," the younger Sith grunted, rubbing his jaw.

Varkoor continued to pace, unable to articulate to Vowrawn the real reason for his agitation. He would likely pay Malgus little heed had he not made such a blatant overture toward Vette.

Vowrawn raised his hands in a placating gesture, misreading Varkoor's turmoil. "I assure you, he acts on his own initiative. Malgus would not offer his aid or insight in the matter of securing Ilum from the Republic just to 'represent Council interests.' He's up to something, of that I am positive. He warrants close watching."

"Tell me what else you know about him. Don't leave anything out."

Vowrawn clasped his hands behind his back. "We can speak in person when I arrive. With the support of the Dark Council, I have personally taken under my supervision one of the teams of scientists that have worked closely on this stealth technology. Logistics has a vested interest," The elder Sith paused, his expression amused. "One of the lead developers has requested transport to the stealth prototype lab on Ilum Orbital Station to oversee final testing. She has some…volatility concerns with the upcoming transfer." Vowrawn chuckled lightly. "I believe you have met Dr. Kyros once or twice?"

Varkoor stopped pacing and looked at Vowrawn in slack jawed shock. "You must be joking. _You're_ bringing my _mother_ here? I've created a monster."

Vowrawn guffawed, clearly enjoying the younger Sith's reaction. "This is what I live for, my dear Wrath! Z'kara is a…captivating and brilliant woman."

The elder snickered in amusement when Varkoor slapped his forehead and rolled his eyes heavenward.

"My ship is preparing for departure from Dromund Kaas as we speak. I will contact you once we reach the orbital station in three standard days. Vowrawn out."

* * *

The Pontite Crystal Mine was a winding labyrinthine system of caves and tunnels, most of which glowed with an ethereal light given off by the prodigious array of raw crystals embedded in the walls and ceilings. The formations were staggering in their size.

They'd been successful in obtaining the loyalty and allegiance of the Kaleesh through a rite of challenge to their leader, with minimal casualties. Imperial forces wasted no time occupying the mines once Varkoor had given the all clear. Imperial miners and workers were already being called in to resume their excavation. The rest of his crew had already returned to base, but Vette was utterly enthralled by her surroundings and so she stayed behind with him.

Varkoor noted with faint amusement that Vette looked rather like a child on Life Day, looking at all of her presents. She wrung her hands absently, craning her neck all around while Varkoor stood waiting for the troops to arrive. He glanced at her and raised a brow at her fidgeting.

She caught his look. "What? I'm a treasure hunter. It's ingrained. This place is unbelievable!"

His mouth tipped up on one side at her enthusiasm. "Go ahead, have a look around."

Her face lit up. "Eeek! Mind if I get just a tiny souvenir?"

"Just make sure no one sees you doing it."

She pouted, affronted. "In case you've forgotten, I know how to not be seen while hunting shinies," she informed him archly. "Getting thrown in the clink on Korriban is no reflection on my ability to be sneaky. That place is a death trap, the whole planet, I mean."

He raised one spiky brow, and feigned seriousness. "I stand corrected, Vette. By all means, avail yourself of whatever 'shinies' you deem worthy."

She bounced on the balls of her feet and flashed him a blinding smile. "Thanks, big guy." She dashed off to explore. The Sith's eyes trailed after her, admiring the view for a few moments before he caught himself, and turned back to the business at hand.

The Imperial soldiers were less than thrilled with the prospect of working with the defected Kaleesh. A harried lieutenant was handing out patrol assignments to his men, though none of them looked at all happy about it.

Varkoor placidly watched the activity with his hands clasped behind his back when the Kaleesh leader, General Gelrex, came to stand next to him. The Imperial lieutenant approached the Sith lord with a bow, shooting the imposing alien a dark look of mistrust. He began to speak to Varkoor as if the General were not even there, or perhaps he didn't think the Kaleesh could understand Basic.

"My lord, it's been my experience that these Kaleesh are bloodthirsty and unpredictable. I advise at least two more squads be assigned if these…aliens…are to be allowed to roam free."

"Lieutenant Rhys, we have no men to spare," Varkoor replied dryly. "That was the point of this mission…to bolster our forces, while taking back the mine."

"The soft soldier insults my honor with ignorant words. The Kaleesh will fight for the Empire. The Challenger has proven his superiority over the Republic," the giant Kaleesh spoke articulately, in measured tones, gesturing to Varkoor.

Lieutenant Rhys looked at the huge bone masked alien in surprise, then narrowed his eyes. "It can talk. How very…curious." he dismissed the creature and looked back at the Sith lord, "As I was saying, Lord Wrath, this arrangement is inadvisable, poten—"

General Gelrex growled, but did not advance when Varkoor held up his hand for peace. "Lieutenant, You've been given very simple orders. _Questioning_ me is _inadvisable_."

The soldier swallowed hard and bowed stiffly. "Of course, Lord Wrath…apologies." He turned on his heel and went back to work with his men.

After making sure the Imperial soldiers and Kaleesh warriors were on the same page and understood they were to work together rather than slaughter each other, Varkoor decided it was time to head back to the base. He looked around the immediate vicinity for Vette. He didn't see her anywhere and reached for his com.

Suddenly, there was a faint, muffled scream that echoed from deeper inside the cavern. A few of the Imperial soldiers paused at the sound but paid it no other heed. The Sith lord was already sprinting in the direction of the sound.

* * *

_Oh, the irony. And right after bragging about my skills, too._

Vette glared up the slick mirrored surface of the _stupidly hidden_ chasm that was nestled along the wall, from her lowly position, at a faint hypnotic glow far above. She'd _almost_ had it! The beautiful prismatic gem flickered benignly from its soaring perch, mocking her. Stupid out-of-reach, high up crystal. Why couldn't it have been somewhere more reasonable?

"Duh. If treasure hunting were easy, everyone would do it." She grabbed her head in both hands and squeezed her eyes shut, her face already heating up in mortification at her stupidity. _I am_ never ever _going to live this down! Think, dammit!_

Vette gingerly sat on the ground at the bottom of the narrow chasm that she'd just moments ago plunged into and tried to figure a way out of her predicament without completely embarrassing herself. She hung her arms on her knees scowling in defiance at the beautifully luminescent surface of the crystal walls, which were now her prison.

She winced as she arched her back, feeling a twinge on her backside. She was grateful she didn't land on her head, because she must have slid down at least twenty feet. She'd landed on _something_ that got between her ass and the ground. She swore when she pulled out her busted comlink, which was in three pieces. The thing was done for. She blew out a sigh and tossed it aside.

She got up again and felt all along the narrow chasm's walls, growling in frustration. There had to be a way out of this blasted hole! _Think, think, think!_

Calling out for Vark to come save her was absolutely _out of the question_. She would claw her fingers bloody up the side of the crystal before she did that. Her eyes frantically scanned for even one foothold, not that just one would do her any good, but still. Wait…that's it! She noticed how the corner of the fissure was narrow enough all the way to the top so that maybe she could brace her legs and inch her way up. Her boots had plenty of traction. If she could just find something…

She saw a faint indentation just within her reach. If she could angle her feet just so…

* * *

Varkoor took off in the direction of her scream, panic blooming in his chest. He punched the call button on his com and swore an oath when she didn't answer. He swiveled his head around wildly, trying to decide which passage to search. How many bleeding tunnels did this mine have? His blood pounded in his ears as he had to tamp down on battle rage that threatened to overwhelm him at the thought of anyone or anything harming her.

He paused and reached out with the Force, grasping desperately for her signature, relieved when he found it and that it was not tainted with fear. He took a deep breath and reached out again, struggling with fury at whatever caused her to scream. He was profoundly grateful that the cave was naturally well lit.

He made his way down a narrow, meandering tunnel, idly wondering what had possessed her to come this way. After some twists and turns, he found himself in a massive room, the ceilings so high they disappeared almost into darkness. She was here. He closed his eyes and reached out for her presence again. He sensed no pain, or fear. He _did_ sense irritation. Waves of it. He frowned in confusion.

The crystal formations completely encircled the room, towering in jagged spires and boulders. He was taken momentarily by how bizarre the whole scene was. Even the floor glowed. Then his eye was drawn to a particularly dazzling bit of rock. It was situated on a clearly inaccessible ledge of crystal. He smirked as his eyes traveled down, below the 'shiny'. From there, the wall sloped steeply, and it was almost indecipherable, but there was a fissure in the formation that ran along the wall. He was pretty sure he'd find an angry twi'lek at the bottom.

He was not disappointed. The Sith lord peered over the edge, and was greeted by a sight that was delightful in its absurdity, though he would never tell her that. He raised a brow as he tried to maintain a straight face. She was struggling to shimmy her way up the chasm, by bracing her feet, making her look like a some sort of gangly spider.

"Hello, Vette," he greeted casually.

Her resultant shriek at the sound of his voice seemed to root him to the spot as he helplessly watched. In her fright she lost her grip on the sides of the slick crystal walls. She landed in a graceless heap on the glowing chasm floor.

Varkoor leaped over the edge and utilized the Force to absorb the impact of his landing. It was further down than he'd originally thought. He landed in a crouch next to the groaning twi'lek. He sensed no injuries and sat back on his heels. She swore colorfully as she rolled inelegantly to a sitting position, her back to him.

"In case you were wondering, I was _trying_ to get out of this stupid hole."

"I gathered."

"…by myself," she added tartly.

"Probably shouldn't have screamed in terror, then. I thought a Wampa had eaten you," he replied mildly, his expression deadpan.

"I slid twenty feet down a wall and into a hole in the ground. It was sorta automatic." she retorted. "And there aren't any Wampas on this planet, for your information."

"If you say so," he replied affably.

"And furthermore, instead of one genius trapped in a crevasse, there are now two. Happy now?"

He didn't answer. He stared at her, charmed by her pout. The curve of her lips was suddenly altogether enticing to him. The Sith imagined kissing her, felt a strong urge to taste her lips. His eyes hooded, a lazy smile curving his mouth. Her irritation only made her more alluring.

"This isn't funny."

"You're right, of course. There is nothing hilarious about this situation at all," he murmured in agreement, his gaze molten.

" _Shut up_ ," she hissed.

Varkoor took advantage of her preoccupation with her irritated embarrassment and simply gazed at her, in a way that he was not able to with others around to notice. He feasted his eyes upon her. She muttered to herself, twisting awkwardly to adjust her blasters, dusted off the front of her insulated jacket. She looked even more beautiful than ever in the luminous glow of the crystals. A weighty feeling settled over his soul. The fissure was illuminated all around and the glow was alive. His fingers twitched.

He stood up, offering his hand to help her stand. She hesitated, a girlish demure look suddenly coming over her features. His heart sped up as she held out her hand and he took it, pulling her to her feet. She tried to step away, to put some distance between them, but he held her close, under the guise of examining her hand, which seemed to have a few abrasions and scrapes on the palm.

They were in a very interesting situation, just the two of them. He felt a bit dizzy at the thought.

"You're injured."

"Nah…Nothin' bruised except for my clumsy ass and my pride. Oh, and my comlink. Gonna have to get a new one, I suppose," she grinned sheepishly, her sense of humor seeming to come back.

She tried to extract her hand and froze when her eyes met his. She cleared her throat and swallowed, her countenance going from embarrassed to something questioning and vulnerable. "Um…Vark?"

He could feel her emotions churning, a wild riot of confusion, uncertainty, anticipation…longing. The last time he'd had her in his arms, she'd been flooded with the first two emotions, but this was the first time he'd ever felt his own desire mirrored in her own emotions. He groaned and pulled her into his arms. He buried his face against her neck, inhaling deeply.

Varkoor's usual arguments for keeping distance between them were nowhere to be found in his drunken state. Her scent was a potent intoxicant in this small space, calling him like a siren song. His arms tightened around her, his hands roaming to her waist, one dipping dangerously low, coming just short of groping her. She let out a little squeaky gasp, automatically putting her hands on his chest, clutching the fabric of his cloak. He was pleased when she did not push him away, but leaned into him.

Her little fingers flexed over his cloak, bunching the fabric and she trembled, her breathing rapid and shallow. He held her, feasting upon her closeness, nudging her collarbone with his nose.  
A lightness spread in his chest.

This place was heavy with the Force. Old, sacred…full of yearning, memory…a thousand lifetimes of _knowing_. The struggle between Light and Darkness were irrelevant. The only thing that mattered was _knowing_. The self-sustaining power surrounded them, called to his baser nature, brought his true desires front and center.

His true desire was her…only her.

"Varkoor…" her voice was pleading whimper. He growled. The way she said his full name was perfect, conjuring images of the two of them in a much more intimate position. The Sith puffed hot ragged breaths over her skin, along the slender column of her neck, trembling himself, wanting to work up the nerve to allow himself to taste her flesh. He didn't dare. He feared losing himself to his passion if he did so. He shuddered with longing and pulled away so he could look at her. Her eyes were so surprised, so soft and accepting…bright with open innocent hunger.

He suddenly felt like a bastard. There was a question that burned between them, he could feel it.

"Yes, Vette?" he grunted hoarsely.

"What…what is this? What is happening?"

Yes…it was a loaded question. And he bloody well knew it. Somewhere in the back of his mind screamed a warning to tread very carefully with her. She was afraid but her pure and curious desire for him blazed like a beacon in the Force, enveloping him. He wallowed in it, savored it, and ignored the warning. He was a bastard and she felt so so _right_ in his arms.

Varkoor nosed under her chin, ghosting his open mouth over her throat. She whimpered, her fingers on his cloak squeezing and gripping the fabric frantically. "This is me…holding you," he murmured, "about to kiss you."

"Ok," she immediately replied, her voice breathless.

He grunted, and then he slid a big hand up her back to cradle her head and claimed her mouth with his own.

* * *

Vette was certain her legs would not hold her up if he were not supporting her weight. She was bombarded by sensations that were utterly new. She'd never been kissed before. Not once. She'd frankly always wondered what the fuss was about.

She _totally_ got it now. Stars, he was talented.

His mouth plucked at hers tenderly… _barely there and feverish_. He seemed to be patiently guiding her through this new experience, while shaking with the effort to keep himself still. She didn't understand why he trembled as his lips ghosted over hers, softly sucking her bottom lip, alternating with lazy sweeps of his tongue. Her brain was short circuiting from his gentle seductive attentions. He was raw coiled power. It frightened and inflamed her, igniting heat in her belly.

She didn't think about why he was kissing her. All she knew in that moment was that it was setting her on fire. His taste was unnamable…and now something she needed more of. She made a noise in her throat when his tongue found hers, he shuddered violently, angling his head to deepen the contact, fisting the heavy material of her jacket, pushing her flush against him.

Suddenly, the light came on in her naive awareness and she experienced yet another first. Her eyes widened when she felt _him_ …against her, wanting and restrained. She had a basic idea of how a man was built, but to have the fully awake evidence of her effect on him right there, and alarmingly…um, yeah she was about to faint. She whined against his mouth, reluctant to stop, but feeling her head spin.

This was too much, too much to process, to take in. His tender halting touches and achingly soft kisses were altogether at odds with the quivering Sith who was taut as a bowstring, holding her tightly as if he feared what he'd do. Her confusion intensified…along with her apprehension.

 _Please let this be more than just…one thing. What am I to you? Please tell me…_ She longed to ask him. She didn't dare.

He pulled away first, leaving them both panting. He rested his forehead on hers and gazed intently into her eyes. She could not hold his gaze or she'd combust from the heat that smoldered there.

She let out a nervous giggle, hiding behind the familiar wall of goofiness. "What just happened?"

"I availed myself of your tempting mouth. Couldn't be helped, I think this place is enchanted," he murmured distractedly. He didn't notice how she went really still at his words. He leaned down, apparently intending to resume their previous activity when she dodged him, slipping out of his arms.

_Oh. Of course. So it's not really me he wants…he's not himself…stupid crystals. Of course giant glowing rocks would have some sort of effect._

"Has it occurred to you that we are still trapped in this stupid hole?" she said flatly.

The Sith lord smirked at her, his gaze affectionate, and still a bit glazed over from making out apparently. He scooped her up, focused the Force into a leap that propelled them both out into the main room. Vette shrieked as her world suddenly shifted. She pushed on him to put her down. He reluctantly complied.

"Next time, give a girl some warning before you do that, will ya?" She straightened her coat and shot him a glare, then mumbled, "Thanks for getting me out of there."

He stepped closer to her and leaned to whisper in her ear, the action making her shiver. His words were full of wonder, "I've never felt this way before. You're…incredible," his eyes darted to her mouth, "so beautiful…," as he leaned down, once again attempting to become very acquainted with her mouth. She felt like crying because she wanted this so bad, wanted to believe it was possible that this was real. But not under some weird Force mind trick. She ducked her head, avoiding his advance and giving him a wan smile.

"Vark…we really need to be heading back to base, don't you think?"

He stilled, his expression becoming inscrutable. "Yes, soon. Are you alright?"

She nodded, her expression guarded. "Yeah, I'm fine. Again, thank you for getting me out of there."

She felt herself dying inside when he closed himself off from her again, like flipping a switch. "Right. Let's get going."

* * *

Dr. Z'kara Kyros woke up disoriented, her surroundings unfamiliar. Her heart was heavy. She'd dreamed. A dream that was as familiar to her as her own name, but had not visited her in quite some time. She sat up in the bed and remembered she was on Darth Vowrawn's personal ship, _Immortalis_ , traveling with her team to Ilum.

The petite pureblood woman rose silently, slipping into a silky robe as she padded across her darkened quarters to stand at the viewport. She stared at the transparisteel, the colors of hyperspace mesmerizing her.

She thought about the adegan crystals that had been so much a part of her life and research for the past several years. Such hauntingly beautiful manifestations of the Force, containing such power. She sighed, unable to fully reconcile her hatred for war with the implications of the stealth amplification technology that she had helped create.

Then again, her hatred was intensely personal, and went back decades.

She was pulled pleasantly from her reverie when arms slipped around her waist from behind, a mellifluous rumble tickling her neck. "A stunning beauty deep in thought…I detect a hint of danger."

Vowrawn's crooning voice was ever enough to make her knees weak. He could be talking about something as mundane as the Sphere of Logistic's annual budget…and she'd still get a little flutter in her gut.

She leaned into his larger frame with a sigh. His was a rare dying breed of refined pureblood nobility, but not at the expense of warmth. He'd quite effortlessly slid past her usual defenses and had fast become a welcome confidante. His irresistible charm revitalized her femininity, stoking desires she'd long neglected. They were both too old, too set in their ways to require anything tiresome like commitment from one another; however, he'd come along when her lonely heart needed a friend, and he'd eagerly provided that. She hummed coyly at his words and stroked swirling patterns on his forearm with the tips of her fingers.

"Who are you when you don't wish to be Darth Vowrawn, Dark Councillor of Sith?" she cooed sleepily.

He let out a rumbling chuckle on the side of her neck, making her shiver. "What a question at this hour, my dear! I was right, I am in danger!"

She turned around in his arms and looked up at him with a saucy pout. "A Sith shouldn't be afraid to answer."

Vowrawn sobered, his expression turning serious. "Z'kara, I am old. I have served on the Dark Council these many decades because I refuse to forget who I am. The dark side is mysterious and alluring, but it is also a tool. Too many of my contemporaries forget at the end of it all, they are still men, and become slaves of their power, rather than stewards."

His words made her tremble, they reached deep in her soul. She looked at his chest, absently fiddling with the edge of his robes. He dipped his head down to look at her, catching her eye, waiting for her to speak.

"I was thinking of my father. He died when I was fourteen."

"A tender age for such a loss, to be sure. Is it thoughts of him that plague you?"

"Yes. It was…a dream that woke me. It hasn't visited me in a while." She slipped out of his arms and leaned on the viewport ledge.

"What is the dream?"

"It's always the same, a Force granted vision perhaps, of him moments before his death, cut down by a Jedi." She closed her eyes. "His apprentice, Malgus, came to my mother and me later and delivered to us his lightsaber and mask. He claimed that his honor demanded he personally see to my father's burial in the Valley of the Dark Lords."

"Indeed?" Vowrawn lifted a brow ridge, surprise in his tone.

Her expression became far away, her voice tinged with bitterness. "He told my mother that it was a fitting 'welcome' for so great a master and warrior.'"

"The retaking of Korriban. It was a new dawn for the Sith." Vowrawn murmured.

Z'kara's sharp elegant features hardened, her eyes fierce. "He died for a cause he believed in. My father was a lord of the Sith, but he never lost himself," she stated firmly. "I would have despised him if he had. My mother would not have died from the grief of his loss had he merely been…driven only by darkness."

"You loved him."

"Yes. Before Varkoor, he was the only man to hold my heart."

"A powerful Sith can rarely boast such treasure. Your father was fortunate. We walk an unforgiving path that demands we choose. It's what we're told, at any rate," he smirked at her and leaned on his elbows beside her on the viewport ledge. "Some of us defy that demand."

"I forget myself at times. It is an escape. It is far too easy to do…it keeps me from this silly fear, fear that's always lurked ever since…he left us." Her jaw tightened. "It's easy to exist that way, to pretend to be hardened and callous, to be the ruthlessly efficient lead scientist that lives in a lab, terrifying interns and research assistants…" she chuckled softly.

Her smiled faded. "When I become that person, I do not have time to worry if today is the day my son fights his last and will never return to me."

Vowrawn slid his hand over the curve of her hip, giving it a slight squeeze before pulling her closer. Then with the same clever hand he deftly loosed the clips holding her dark red hair in its messy bun, letting the waves tumble over her shoulders. He inhaled, loosing a low pleased growl. Her breath hitched slightly.

"Varkoor will not only survive, he will adapt. That is the secret, my dear! It helped him outsmart and surpass his master, who was himself enslaved to his own darkness. Trust the lessons you've taught your son. He is Empire's Wrath! Would your father not be proud of such a fine legacy? Varkoor carries the honor of his heritage with him. Let go of the past and your fear will lose its grip."

She turned and looked at him in wonder, her eyes threatening to spill over. She was rather startled by his insight. He was right. She could see now why he was such an immovable fixture on the council. He was rather brilliant.

He was also rather devastating to her senses.

Vowrawn favored her with the same disarming smirk that made her swoon the night of the party those many weeks ago. He managed to pull off suave gentility and thoroughly debauched in one distressingly attractive package. He lifted one of her hands to his lips and pressed a lingering kiss to her palm, his amber eyes fixed on hers. "I am Ravilan. And you, my lady, are a breathtaking vision."

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

**Imperial Base Camp - Ilum**

Jaesa, Vette, Pierce, and Quinn were all huddled in a giant corner booth of the Ilum Imperial Base cantina. Broonmark had excused himself to hunt the reptilian lisks that prowled the area around the base, his tastes not running to the more civilized fare the menu offered.

"Whattaya think is taking the boss so long to get back?" Pierce muttered.

Quinn frowned in distaste as he dropped the sticky menu onto the table. "I'm sure our Lord Wrath has everything well in hand, despite the…alien element."

Jaesa made a face at the captain. "We should have gone with him. He shouldn't be fighting those Republic soldiers alone."

Pierce scoffed. "If ya think a Sith as powerful as him even needs us half the time, you're crazy. Sometimes a bloke's just gotta knock heads ta blow off steam."

"That's beside the point!"

"Well, we had our own orders, at any rate. I for one will be thrilled if I never lay eyes upon another Talz ever again. Horrible, monstrous beasts. The Republic are fools for using such savages," Quinn complained.

Jaesa frowned in stern disapproval at the Imperial officer. "I'm sure Broonmark's feelings are mutual concerning overstuffed Imps," she retorted testily.

She turned to the negligent bartender, who had thoroughly ignored them since they'd walked into the establishment. "Hey, can we get some service here?"

"Kitchen's closed, love. Most base personnel's off duty, except for the Grand Moff and his aides. If yer hungry, we got canned nerf and crackers. Take it or leave it," the bartender mumbled from his perch behind the bar, his eyes still glued to his datapad.

Jaesa groaned and dropped her head on the table. "Gross…" she whined.

"Probably just as well, I'm not really in the mood for food poisoning," Quinn muttered.

Vette huddled in the darkened booth, not really hearing her crew mates' chatter. She swallowed hard and blinked a few times, determined to ignore the stinging behind her eyes. The memory of his kiss from days ago in the cave mocked her fear and sadness. He'd completely ignored her since what happened. She suddenly felt caged, like she needed to escape.

* * *

Later, the Sith lord and his exhausted crew reported to the command hub right in the middle of another argument between Grand Moff Regus and Darth Malgus, who was of course present via holo.

"Great, another lover's spat," Vette growled under her breath as she sullenly crossed her arms over her chest.

Varkoor didn't even try to hide his disgust. He stood rigid, glaring hatefully at the two men.

"Are you deliberately trying to provoke me?" Regus demanded of the holo projected Sith.

Darth Malgus could have been smiling benevolently for all anyone knew, but for the menacing apparatus he wore over his face. "I'm doing only what I was sent to do," his baleful gaze fell upon Varkoor, "as all of us have been, I've no doubt. I take it the Kaleesh tribe who have occupied the Pontite Crystal Mine have been won over to our cause?"

"Of course they have, not that such matters are any of your concern," Varkoor hissed.

"I've made it my concern… _Wrath_. If you'll excuse me, I have…other matters to attend to," Malgus sounded amused, which made Vette nervous. Everything about this guy was a nightmare, especially after what she'd recently learned about him. His holo image blinked out and he was gone. She let out a relieved breath.

Regus whirled on Varkoor. "And you…I didn't ask for your aid so that you could bring aliens into the Empire! What a humiliating development!"

Vette winced. This guy wanted to die, apparently. The pureblood's expression was blank as he stood with his arms crossed over his chest, but for his flashing red eyes piercing Regus. The Moff suddenly grabbed for his throat as an invisible will constricted his windpipe. The Sith abruptly released him and spoke in a conversational tone of voice that was positively chilling.

"You are lucky, Moff. That was a warning. Your disrespect ends _now_."

Moff Regus leaned on his knees as he coughed. He stood upright, holding his hands in a placating gesture. "None intended, my lord! Please, this whole situation with Malgus has become intolerable. He's meddling in affairs with which he has no business or experience and I have no recourse against him, though that does not excuse my…insolence toward you. The mine has been reclaimed, that's all that matters. We can resume operations and prepare for the arrival of the prototype fleet."

Varkoor cracked his knuckles. "I don't understand why the fleet must be here for the transfer. Can the crystals not be transported?"

The Moff was already shaking his head. "Everything we need for the transfer is on that fleet. It has to happen on the ground. The problem is we can't get through the atmosphere without the Republic's anti-aircraft artillery shooting us down. They control the skies. And this artillery is protected by a ray shield and the Republic's best alien forces."

Varkoor rubbed his forehead and growled a long suffering sigh as if he knew what was coming.

"I'm sending in Delta Squad to get in there and disable those shields," Moff Regus said with bright eager eyes, as if he relished the very idea of Republic alien forces being mercilessly routed. "They head out at 0600 hours. I need you to come in behind them, storm the facility and take out those guns…and take out anyone who gets in your way. Better yet, take out the whole base."

* * *

Varkoor was the quickest to disappear to the lower level of the base, right after barking out some hasty orders for the crew to be ready to leave first thing in the morning. The male members of Varkoor's crew needed no further encouragement and quickly dispersed, Pierce and Quinn satisfied to secure lodgings in the barracks. Vette and Jaesa had no desire to bunk up with a bunch of strange men, so they would shuttle back to the ship for a few hours of sleep. Vette leaned tiredly against a humming generator, its warmth welcome. They were alone in the cavernous hallway, the darkened corridor giving off a creepy ghostly feel.

"These last couple of days have been murder. I'm so tired."

"What is going on?" Jaesa demanded in a quiet hiss. She was sure something had happened between Vette and her master and she was determined to get to the bottom of it.

"What are you talking about?"

"You and Master…your auras are clouded with something awful. What is going on?"

Vette dropped her head on Jaesa's shoulder and closed her eyes. "I can't handle this, Jaesa," she murmured.

Jaesa took Vette's shoulders in her hands and looked into her face. Vette looked everywhere except at her friend. She felt like the walls of this horrible Imperial base were closing in on her. Jaesa squeezed her shoulders, "Hey…talk to me. What happened after we left the crystal mine? You were fine then, bouncing off the walls…now you look on the verge of tears and he looks positively homicidal."

Vette stared unseeing at a giant ice shard that hung from the ceiling of the huge cave turned base. "I fell in a hole, Vark found me and…he kissed me," she blurted, her hand flying to her lips, still unable to believe it. Then her eyes widened when she realized what she'd just spilled. She covered her mouth with both hands in horror.

Jaesa's jaw dropped and she looked quickly back in the direction the Sith lord had disappeared. When she looked back at Vette she was biting back a squeal, grabbing the twi'lek's hands and giggling madly, "It's about kriffing time!" Then she frowned. "So why are you both so moody and upset?"

Vette grimaced and pulled away, "It's not like he really _wanted_ to kiss me."

Jaesa gawked incredulously. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. What, did you hold your blaster to his head and force him?" she attempted to joke, but it went over like a lead balloon. Vette hugged herself protectively and stared at her feet.

"It's not what you think it is, Jaesa…not even close. You asked me what was wrong. There it is," she said quietly, her voice wavering.

Jaesa had the feeling her friend was retreating, was poised to flee. She wasn't about to let her. "Enough of this, _honestly_! What is it about a man kissing you that makes you think _he doesn't want to kiss you?"_

The twi'lek had tears running down her cheeks by this point. Jaesa bit her lip. "Awww, Vette," she murmured comfortingly. Her concern only made Vette lose it more. Jaesa led her to an empty med tent and shut the flap so the patrolling guards wouldn't bother them and chase them out of the base. She sat her down on a cot and pulled the petite twi'lek into her arms, "Hey…it's ok…sweetie, what's wrong?" she murmured as Vette sniffled on her shoulder.

"Vark kissed me, Jaesa…oh, stars, it was fantastic," she whispered, and then her eyes widened in horror, "I'm…I'm…oh, run me over with a rancor. I'm in love with him," she began to sob, the realization horrifying to her.

Jaesa looked bemused as she stroked the twi'ek's lekku, holding her while she cried.

"That's not a secret to me, dear heart, although I know you've been in denial for a while now."

Vette cried harder. "I can't be! I just can't…" she whined.

"Shhhh…Vette, it's ok. I promise, it's going to be fine. Finally admitting this is a good thing," the human woman murmured reassuringly, as if she were speaking to a child.

"No! It's not! It's the worst thing that could possibly ever happen! Vark's a _Sith lord_! He's a franging _DARTH_ , Jaesa, and I'm…I'm…," she whispered tremulously, her tear filled eyes were horror stricken, "…like _her_."

"Who?"

Vette didn't answer Jaesa's question. She simply continued to murmur to herself, "I'm just…a regular girl. I'm nothing special…nobody."

"Stop it! _No_ , you are _NOT_ nobody! You are beautiful, smart, and strong! Why can't you believe that _he_ sees it too?"

"The crystals…the mine," Vette hiccuped and wiped her snotty nose carelessly on the front of Jaesa's robe, "there was some kind of weird…Force thing going on, because of the crystals in the mine. That _had_ to be it…"

"By the forsaken Emptiness, I swear, why does no one ever listen to me?" Jaesa exclaimed in frustration. She sighed, a long suffering gesture. "I didn't sense anything off about the mine while I was there. What do you mean they affected him? You are starting to worry me."

Vette bit her lip, her crying subsided to rhythmic hiccups. She looked at Jaesa askance. If _she_ didn't sense anything…

"He said…um, that the place was enchanted. He said…the kiss…he couldn't help it," Vette stuttered, her face heating up.

Jaesa growled under her breath, "Idiot…"

"Hey!" The twi'lek's head shot up, an adorably outraged look on her face.

"Not you. _Him_." Jaesa growled the word. "Ugh. Vette, listen to me. _Hear me_. He is, without any doubt, may the Emperor come for me if I am wrong, madly in love with you. He kissed you because he _wanted_ to. There was no enchantment. I would have sensed it."

Vette chuckled but it was a humorless sound. She wiped her face and pulled away from her friend. "You're determined to make something out of this, Jaesa. Something that cannot be there,"

"No, that's exactly what _you_ are doing, with your absurd insistence that there was some stupid Force mind trip making him—" the human woman started to object.

Vette held up her hand, "No, listen…seriously, I went to Dromund Kaas with Vark a while back, before you joined the crew, and I got to meet his…mom." She made a face.

"Yeah, so?" Jaesa argued impatiently.

"She has servants…that _serve_ her, if you know what I mean," Vette's cheeks colored and she cleared her throat.

"So what? That's what servants do…they _serve_. _I_ did it on Alderaan."

"So I guess the masters you served on Alderaan had buff and shirtless twi'lek boy-toys that doubled as butlers?" Vette retorted.

Jaesa's eyes widened and she blushed at the mental picture. "Oh…um…maybe it was laundry day?" she supplied lamely.

Vette glared with her hands on her hips. "Yeah, must have been," she sneered.

Jaesa glared right back. "Vette, what does any of this have to do with the fact that Master finally got up the nerve to show you how he feels about you? He kissed you. I am certain he is not one to do such a thing on a whim."

Vette balled her hands into fists. "Vark kissed me because there was some weird Force hoodoo going on that got him all bothered." Vette's eyes widened in embarrassment at what she'd just said. She growled and covered her face. "Why would he do it otherwise? Unless he just wanted one thing. I'm just a…"

Jaesa grabbed her hands and growled. "A what? Vette, you _better_ not go where I think you are going with that sentence!"

"I'm a twi'lek, Jaesa…and twi'lek means slave to the Empire. I've been a slave before, and I'm not going back. I'm sick of dealing with people looking at me like I'm less than a person. I'm just tired of it! It's been this way ever since I joined him. First it was Darth Baras and his disgusting innuendos, and it just got worse from there. Sith plus twi'lek girl must equal kinky master and slave. I've never had to deal with this but now it's constant." Her face darkened into a determined pout as she jutted her chin out. "I'm _sure_ not going to fall into that role for Vark," she muttered, shuffling her toe against the floor.

Jaesa gasped, dumbstruck, "How could you say that? He's only ever treated you with respect! He would never expect that of you!"

Vette huffed and stood up. "You don't understand, Jaesa, I _know_ Vark wouldn't…do _that_!"

"Then why are you so quick to assume he just wanted one thing from you?" Jaesa pressed.

"Things were so much simpler before Korriban…" Vette murmured, ignoring her question. "I was part of a gang, we had the run of the galaxy, we were tight. No one messed with me, and that was just fine. I was like Taunt's kid sister. Plasmajack and Flash were like brothers to me, we watched each other's backs. We'd run a job, and I got in and out and no one noticed. We wore our twi'lek pride openly and without shame. We were our _own_ masters," She closed her eyes, pain etched on her features, "I take up with a Sith lord and now suddenly I'm seen as his exotic pet or accessory."

Vette shivered, an unbidden memory of his…ardor pressed up against her as he devoured her mouth, his strong hands roaming and eager flashing through her mind. The look in his liquid red eyes when he told her he'd never felt this way before…he told her she was beautiful. An answering shaft of longing tore through her. She could still taste his lips on hers and her knees went weak. She was completely in love with a pureblood Sith lord who grew up in a society that regarded people like her as beneath their contempt. That revelation terrified her and made her want to disappear.

When she was only his ditzy sidekick…it was fine. This new variable changed everything, and she had no idea what to do about it.

She pressed her hand to her forehead as fresh tears sprang to her eyes. "Look, I won't deny that something happened between us…but it was purely physical, the crystals got to him. I can't…" she sighed, defeated and looked at Jaesa pleadingly. "I just want things to go back to the way they used to be…before we went to Tatooine for my mother," She said in a small voice, hugging herself. "Problem is, how do I go back?"

"Sweetie…" this time Jaesa didn't argue.

Vette's eyes burned with something unnamed. "I did some digging on the holonet…about our mysterious Darth Malgus," Jaesa quirked an eyebrow at the abrupt change of subject.

"Oh? What'd you find?"

"He had a wife once." Vette looked faraway, her eyes hard.

Jaesa snorted. "I can't imagine the kind of woman that would be able to tolerate someone like him. Probably have to be a Sith battle axe, and just as frightening," Jaesa joked.

Vette looked down at her hands, picked at her nails absently. She shook her head. "Nah…she was a rutian twi'lek. Drop dead gorgeous, like Taunt. The type that stops traffic, they are so beautiful."

Jaesa's eyes widened like saucers. "Um…wow. That's unexpected."

"Of course, the official record on Malgus shows that she was just his servant, but apparently the true nature of their relationship was an open secret among all his darth buddies. Caused him some headaches for consorting with a mongrel."

Jaesa flinched at the pejorative. "By the Force, that's…juicy. You said 'once', indicating past tense. What happened to her?"

Vette looked at Jaesa with tired eyes. "She loved him, killed for him, was loyal only to him. She was with him for over twenty years. Darth Malgus murdered her because they were in love. What Jedi call attachments…Sith call weaknesses. Liabilities." She shuddered. "I call it seventeen kinds of psychotic."

Jaesa paled, the twi'lek's words hanging in the horrified silence.

"Kark, Vette. What a monster," she choked out.

Vette sighed heavily and leaned over to kiss her friend on the cheek. "Thank you for always listening and being there for me, Jaesa."

"Anytime, sweetie," she looked up at the twi'lek with a heavy heart, finally understanding part of her turmoil.

"We need to get some rest. Big day tomorrow of wreaking havoc and mayhem on the Republic fort."

Jaesa gently patted her friend's cheek with a rueful smile. "You go on ahead back to the _Scythe_. I'll take the next shuttle after I'm finished here."

* * *

Jaesa strode with a purpose through the darkened sleeping base, reaching out with the Force for her Master. Her eyes flashed with a determined glint as she spotted him conferring with a haggard commissary officer who looked as if he were trying to close up if not for the bothersome Sith lord hovering over him.

Jaesa held her head up high and waited unobtrusively off to the side for Master Varkoor to finish his transaction.

The commissary officer mumbled a slurred 'milord' as he bowed, making a bee-line for the barracks.

He turned to her finally, shoving the item he'd just procured inside his robes. The massive pureblood scowled down at her with a look that could crack stone. "Jaesa."

She met his gaze, undaunted. _This ends now, buster._ "We need to talk right away, Master."

He regarded her warily. "It's late, apprentice. Why aren't you back aboard the ship with Vette?"

"As I said, we need to talk, and it can't wait."

"Is everything alright?"

"As a matter of fact, no, it's not."

He raised a spiky brow in that aristocratic way she instantly recognized as a challenge. Jaesa felt an almost uncontrollable urge to slap him. The urge dissipated when she detected his confusion. She pursed her lips.

"Apprentice?"

"It's about Vette, Master. She's extremely troubled."

He frowned. "About what?"

Jaesa glared up at him, fed up. "You. She's troubled about _you_."

" _Me_?"

Jaesa decided to go all in and took a deep breath. "She told me you kissed her."

Jaesa had never thought she'd see a look of fear mar her Master's features. It didn't suit him. He looked like he wanted to run as his throat worked in a hard swallow. "And?"

"And she was crying her eyes out." Jaesa watched in satisfaction as the dreadfully powerful Empire's Wrath positively _squirmed_. Perversely, she wished to draw it out, remembering the twi'lek's near hysterics over her realization that she was in love with this clueless oaf.

He retreated further beneath his cowl. She nearly gasped under the heaviness of his despair.

"Then it is as I feared. My reckless…attentions have caused her distress," he said in a low voice.

Jaesa took pity on him and placed a hand on his arm. "Master, you misunderstand." He went very still. Though she could not see his face, he was tense as a coiled spring. "Vette loves you."

His head jerked up, his crimson eyes on fire, a snarl curling his lip, "You _lie_."

Her mouth dropped open in affront. "I would _never_ lie! I am being serious! How _dare_ you accuse me of such a thing?" her patrician Alderanean attitude came out full force, no matter that she had only been a servant. She scowled at him.

"Did you…read this off of her or did she speak the words?" he ground out.

"Vette said, and I quote, ' _I'm in love with him, Jaesa_.' while she sobbed on my shoulder! You've both been in a foul mood ever since this happened and this misery could be avoided if you would just _talk to each other_ about it." The young human woman threw her hands up in frustration. "Why in all the Force forsaken galaxy you both have to be so irretrievably bone-headed is completely beyond me, unless I'm being tested. Yes, of course, that _must_ be it. Or I'm doing some sort of penance for some past sin," she murmured to herself, but not caring if he heard her. She rolled her eyes when she noticed her sarcasm went completely over his head.

"She…told you this," Varkoor murmured, ignoring her gripe. Jaesa had never sensed such raging contradictory feelings through the Force. Joy, dread, anger, yearning… _lust_. The last emotion was a powerful current that coiled around him possessively, something she was shocked to discern raged within him, at all times, for Vette. She was nearly knocked down by the weight of his emotions that he made absolutely no attempt to mask. She gulped. No wonder Vette had been overwhelmed. She placed her hand over her heart and nodded.

Jaesa thought of what Vette had just revealed to her about Malgus and his doomed twi'lek. She shivered and briefly wondered if she were meddling in a dangerous game where Vette's fears were not so far-fetched. She was familiar with the machinations of bored aristocrats in their power plays in the game of love, and as a servant with eyes and ears everywhere in House Organa, had done her fair share of facilitating covert trysts between nobles…but never with an unpredictable Sith Lord as one of the players. She swallowed hard and watched him nervously.

"Master, please…for both your sakes. Reassure her. She's afraid."

Varkoor clenched and unclenched his fists. His voice was guttural in its conviction, "I would _never_ …ever hurt her. I would die first."

Jaesa smiled, her misgivings squashed with his words. "Not intentionally, no, I don't believe you would do such a thing."

His feline eyes widened. "Are you suggesting I've done so?"

"She is under the impression that you kissed her…under enchantment of the Force and the crystals in the mine, Master."

His puzzlement mixed with his Imperial upbringing came to the fore. "Is the girl completely daft? That's not how the Force works."

Jaesa shot him a look of irritation. "You and I both know that, but…apparently, you told her the place was enchanted."

"We were in this…chasm. It was illuminated from within. The Force was so heavy in that place." He closed his eyes, uttering a growl of frustration, " _SHE_ was enchanting…that's what I meant!"

"You forget her background, Master. She's a twi'lek, born a slave, her people oppressed and made into a commodity by _your_ people. Try to see from her perspective."

"She was never supposed to know about my…about how I feel about her. What happened in the cave was a lapse in judgement on my part."

"Forgive my bluntness, Master, but that's total nerfshit."

"I am _Sith_! Not an undisciplined whelp with no self-control! I _knew_ better!" he paced like a caged manka.

"You can't exist forever in denial, Master. You just can't."

Varkoor shot her a quelling glare.

She shrank back beneath his glower before bravely offering more unsolicited advice. "Just talk to her. _TELL_ her how you feel. You are both making wrong assumptions about how the other feels. It's so pointless…"

He actually advanced on her until he stood directly in front of her. "You know less than you think, apprentice," he spoke softly, a dangerous sound.

She jutted her chin out, unmoved by his posturing. "I know plenty, Master, and you can't deny my words."

"You've meddled enough in matters that are none of your affair, Jaesa." His walls were once again in place.

"Vette is my friend, and she's hurting. Only you can fix it, Master."

He made an angry sound in his throat and whirled away from her, making for the exit.

"Vette believes your only desire for her is physical," Jaesa said flatly, figuratively laying her cards down.

He halted and Jaesa recoiled from the potent anger she felt swirling around him. He turned back around to face her.

"Then she is a fool," he hissed. He yanked from his robes the newly acquired item he'd just purchased five minutes ago and shoved it into her hands, his eyes molten fire. "I saw this…and I wanted her to have it." His face suddenly reflected uncertainty. "Thought she could use it."

Her mind went back to a couple of days ago in the cave, and how Vette had commented needing a warmer headband, maybe something fur-lined.

Jaesa looked at the lengths of finely made leatheris and cloth that he'd just handed her. Of course, it was a twi'lek head wrap. Of course, it was fur-lined. She sighed.

He stomped off to the barracks without another word.

* * *

"Ambush! We walked into a trap! The Republic were waiting for us at the ray shield generators. We don't know how long we can—"

The Delta Squad leader's panicked transmission over the holo at the relay station cut off abruptly with screams of the dying. Varkoor swore.

"Bleeding figures that nothing ever goes as planned," Pierce remarked. "Now what?"

"Something feels off about this situation," Jaesa murmured softly.

"Well, good thing I came along and know how to do Delta Squad's job," Vette grumbled sourly.

Quinn frowned at her. "You? I doubt that." He began to tap in the Moff's frequency on the holoterminal.

"Excuse me? The ray shield's gotta come down so you all can get in there. I know how to do it nice and quiet like. I've had experience with slicing into these types of computers, and I can do it fast."

"We need to contact Grand Moff Regus and inform him of this latest development. He may have further instructions," Quinn informed her loftily.

Varkoor sliced the air with his hand, using the Force to disable the holo, causing sparks to fly. Quinn side stepped, barely getting out of the way in time.

"No. I don't have time for his prattle nor do I intend to indulge his pointless overkill. This is now a stealth operation. Jaesa, Vette and I will make for the generator coords. The Republic will not interfere this time. Quinn, Pierce and Broonmark will head for the first artillery emplacement. As soon as Vette has the shield down, Pierce can sneak in and plant the charges on all three of the emplacements, preferably without alerting the Republic, at least while we're there," he finished dryly.

"Them 'Pubs won't get the drop on me, boss," Pierce scowled and crossed his arms over his broad chest.

Quinn stood at parade rest next to Pierce, the dislike the two men had for one another a palpable thing that everyone was used to. He looked straight ahead in obstinate silence.

Varkoor nodded and opened a map with the intel of the target locations on his datapad. "We will come in behind you and neutralize any potential opposition."

"Time to shut down this nerf and wookiee show." Vette murmured. Her eyes slid to Varkoor. She couldn't help herself. The new head wrap she wore this morning was absolutely perfect, the nicest one she'd ever owned. Her mind roiled in confusion. He would not meet her gaze.

Later, Vette knelt inside a closet at the rear of the shield generator, with a hydrospanner between her teeth as she fiddled with the guts of a computer panel. Her eyes closed as she listened to the sounds of battle outside, the sounds of Varkoor's snarling lightsaber washing over her as he swiftly cut down what remained of the Talz ambushers. Jaesa stood sentry right outside, idle but vigilant.

It occurred suddenly to Vette that Jaesa would have been more than capable of covering her while she worked. She could have handled the ambushers, yet Varkoor had insisted on being the one to do it. His insistence on accompanying them brought forth a memory.

_The garish lights of Nar Shaddaa were familiar territory for Vette, but she stifled a giggle at the somber sight of her Sith companion, shrouded all in black. He stuck out like a sore thumb. She grinned up at him as they disembarked from the taxi._

_"Thanks, big guy. I don't think I could get the Star of Kala'unn without your help."_

_Varkoor's crimson eyes glittered beneath his cowl. His whole demeanor reflected vigilance. She knew his gaze had taken in every aspect of their immediate surroundings. "I would not allow you to do this alone, Vette."_

_He was always there for her. He didn't have to be, but he always was._

_Later, she introduced him to her old gang. Her heart sank when Taunt immediately went on the prowl at the sight of Varkoor. She flirted openly and wasted no time propositioning him. Vette was giddy when he moved to stand behind her, so close she could feel his heat against her back. He soundly rejected Taunt's offer. His words and actions warmed and confused her._

_"I'll pass." he actually stepped closer to her and she felt his chest brush her lekku._

_When Taunt asked her to come rejoin their gang, Vette had been touched._

_The Sith leaned down and spoke softly, the words spoken to her but loud enough for the gang to hear, "Stay or go, it's your choice, Vette, but you will always have a place at my side."_

_Vette didn't register the subtle hint behind his words, nor did she understand Taunt's smug smirk directed at her as she nodded knowingly. "Ah, now I get it."_

Vette was brought back to the present by Jaesa's voice. "Hey, you almost done in there?"

She stared at nothing. Her mind played over the memory. He was claiming her…preferring _her_. At the time, she'd just not been paying attention.

Looking back on that memory through the lens of her newly discovered feelings made her heart swell in happiness. It was a brief flash and then all the doubts came rushing back.

"Vette? Anybody home?"

She jumped at the sound of Jaesa's voice, refocusing on her task. She bit down on the hydrospanner as she began tapping code into the computer, her words muffled as she tried to talk around the tool between her teeth. "Yeah. Just slicing into the network. These shields won't be going back up anytime soon." Once she finished, she put everything back the way she found it, twirling the screws back into the panel. The entire hack job had taken less than three minutes. She didn't just temporarily disable the shields. She infected the programs that controlled the shields and hid the virus where it would take days for the Republic to restore the generator's operation. She stepped out of the tiny control room and dusted off her gloved hands.

"Shields down. Time to blow up some big-ass guns."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leonard Cohen's music is so SITHY and wonderful...and helps me imagine Vark's feelings for Vette. 'Dance Me to the End of Love'. Go listen to it. It's the ending I hope these two get :D
> 
> I can totally see Leonard Cohen singing his songs in a smokey Nexus Cantina. Sithy indeed. Rawr lol


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks go to Feravai for this chapter. You are awesome.

**Chapter Six**

The mission was fraught with complications. Not only did they have to clean up after the ambush on Delta Squad, they were barely able to destroy the anti-aircraft emplacements without being overrun, and now they had to destroy a bomb aimed directly at the Imperial Base.

Varkoor's crew was exhausted. Destroying a bomb was not something they'd planned—especially after battling a bunker swarming with commandos and Talz all day. As if exhaustion weren't enough, they were down two of their number and Pierce had been injured by a sniper's shot while disabling the last gun. Quinn had been obliged to get him safely to a medical transport.

Varkoor had to admit, Admiral Shai was clever. Either that, or the Republic was getting information from the inside. How else would they know where to point their bomb?

All very curious indeed, but these were questions to ponder once the Republic dogs and their kriffing bomb were dealt with. He glanced behind him, making sure the two women had kept up. Jaesa and Vette were picking off stragglers as he carved a swathe of devastation through the canyon. Once he reached the bunker's entrance he froze. Snipers had mobilized…and they'd taken aim at Jaesa and Vette!

Varkoor's vision tinged pink as the rage coursed through him. He narrowed his eyes, focusing his intent upon the crouching aliens. He leapt high, calling on the Force as he drive his lightsaber into the nearest sniper just before the man squeezed off his first round.

As the Sith crashed to the ground in a crouch above the fallen alien, he dispatched the remaining two soldiers like a cautery, their gaping chest cavities left sizzling and bloodless. They didn't even scream—only gurgles escaped them as they twitched in their death throes. These snipers were far too confident in their precision aim. Fat lot of good it did them now. The Sith wanted to roar in frustration, his battle rage not satisfied by such poor sport.

The Force pulsed within Varkoor and his teeth gnashed. He breathed deeply in an effort to calm his bloodlust. All around him were scattered the twisted corpses of Republic alien forces, along with a few elite commandoes. He didn't ordinarily indulge in such wholesale slaughter, but it had become glaringly obvious the Empire was outnumbered. The likely threat of treachery coming from within only fueled his anger. The Republic had the advantage, but in this canyon, on the doorstep of the bunker where the bomb was housed, they were decimated.

His original idea to kill as little as possible went right out the window. He was _pissed_.

The sound of Jaesa's growling saber staff not far away drew his attention. He sneered…well, not quite decimated. There were three left, all focused on his apprentice. He was about to ignite his lightsaber to jump into the fray but thought better of it—now that the snipers were taken care of, he wanted to see how she fared without his help. He melded into the shadows near the bunker's entrance, observing.

Jaesa was a dancer on the ice—truly a dedicated student of Soresu. Her shield shimmered with every relentless blow dealt by the Talz warriors. She thrust her hand forward, fingers splayed, sending two of the beasts backward ten feet. Amidst a ripple of telekinetic power their bodies skidded across the snow in a stunned tangle of limbs. He was about to intervene when Jaesa yelled, sounding exhilarated.

"Now, Vette!"

"I'm on it! Just don't be mad if I miss!"

"You got this! Don't be afraid you'll hit me."

His eyes scanned the canyon floor, finding the Twi'lek across the narrow passage, crouching behind a jutting ice shard. Her aim was confident and practiced as her silenced blaster spit out two bolts in rapid succession. The beast toppled in the snow with a grunt. Varkoor was impressed. Her confidence was growing. Vette didn't ordinarily fire into melee like this for fear of hitting him, instead of whatever he was fighting.

Varkoor's heart swelled as he watched her, all deadly grace and shapely feminine symmetry. He allowed himself the indulgence of watching her, his delight in seeing her in battle warring with his need to protect her. Desire flared within him and he clenched his jaw, angry that she held such power over him.

Her lekku twirled behind her as she smoothly altered her position, kneeling upright, her stance wide. Her weapons were an extension of her will, her delicate features hardened in concentration as she prepared for her next shot. His mouth went dry as she twisted her torso to aim both blasters at the two remaining Talz.

The aliens scrambled to their feet, charging at Jaesa. She used the Force to propel herself in a back flip to put distance between herself and her enemy. She landed in a crouch, holding her lit saber staff off to the side as the other hand balanced on the ground. She was toying with them, giggling.

"C'mon, hit it!" Vette growled to herself. The Talz stumbled forward as both of her bolts hit their marks before they even got close the human woman.

"Aww yeah, that's how it's done, baby!" Vette holstered her blasters and stood up.

"That was some impressive blaster work, my friend," Jaesa complimented as she dusted off her robes and clipped her saber hilt to her belt.

"Pssh! You Force freaks got the market cornered on impressive."

The two women high fived as they made their way to his position. Vette looked around at the carnage and frowned. She glanced at Varkoor, biting her lip. "This where the bomb is?"

Varkoor gave a slight nod, his face completely hidden by his hood. "Let us proceed. Be ready for resistance."

Vette sliced the door code without too much difficulty. Surprisingly, the service corridor was empty and quiet. They snuck into the cave in silence, lightsabers ready to ignite, winding through the darkened corridor until they reached the entrance to a massive command center. They flattened themselves against the wall as they surveyed the opposition they'd have to take out.

Varkoor smirked. Nothing out of the ordinary, no alarm had been raised. Technicians worked at blinking warbling computer terminals while a couple of well-armed Republic guards paced aimlessly, looking bored.

An officer sporting heavy commando plasteel and durasteel stood at a backlit work table with his hands clasped behind his back, a bulky blaster cannon attached to his back.

Jaesa whispered, "How could they be completely unaware of what just happened outside?"

Varkoor sized up the officer in charge. "The hubris of the Republic has served us well today, apprentice." He glanced at Vette, and murmured, "Jaesa and I will handle the soldiers. Stay out of sight until I give the all clear."

She quirked a brow at him. "Um, _no_. I'm not going to hide and do nothing while the two of you fight."

Jaesa glanced up at Varkoor with a sly grin. "D'aww. Master's being protective."

Vette scowled, her cheeks darkening.

He grit his teeth in irritation at Jaesa's _as_ _always_ astute observations. "Vette, your only concern is disabling the bomb."

Vette scowled, her whisper more of a hiss. "I can cover you and still do my job, plus I've been here with you all day upping your total body count. What makes now any different?"

"Just do as I say!" the pureblood hissed.

Vette looked stricken for a moment at the tone he took with her and then shot back, "Fine. I'll sit here like a lump on a Hutt and await your command, _my lord_."

"Brilliant. I knew you'd see it my way," he replied, dripping sarcasm.

Jaesa sighed at their quarreling. She wished she could just order them to a dark corner for an hour of snogging and put them out of her misery. Oh, if only it could be so simple and they both weren't so kriffing stubborn. She scanned the room from their hidden spot. "Speaking of hubris, we should be careful of it as well…I sense more troops here, deeper within this bunker. I don't know how many."

"Which is why we will work really quickly," Varkoor whispered impatiently.

"Master, I have a bad feeling about this."

"The sooner we stop talking about it, the better," he gestured with a jerk of his head toward the room. "At your leisure, apprentice."

Jaesa sighed and drew her saber staff, gathering the Force around her as she leaped headlong into a group of oblivious soldiers. Varkoor was right on her heels.

* * *

Vette fumed in the shadows as a cacophony of surprised shouts and cannon fire rang out, the room erupting in chaos. Shots were deflected in a blur of spinning lightsabers. Jaesa's and Varkoor's Force augmented speed made it difficult for the Republic soldiers to know where to aim. This was routine, the type of thing they faced all the time. Which was why she was so confused about his order. The Sith had been impossible and unpredictable ever since they'd arrived on this frozen rock of a planet and she was tired of it. Relegating her to the sidelines made her feel useless, and even worse, it made her wonder if he even valued her abilities or if he saw her as a burden.

She winced as the screams of the dying filled her ears. This was one of the reasons she hated sitting still. She was seeing and hearing with blistering clarity the results of their handiwork, with nothing to distract her. With her blasters drawn and her focus concentrating on the task at hand, she could tunnel focus on weakening the enemies that were trying to kill her Sith.

_Her_ Sith…

She squeezed her eyes closed, sickening thumps reaching her ears as the soldiers fell to snarling lightsabers.

With her back still pressed into the wall she chanced a peek at the room. The way was clear to the bomb's control interface. Jaesa and Vark were still a blur of lightsabers, fighting at the far end of the room. They still had the advantage, the element of surprise coupled with their unnatural speed caused a rout of the remaining troops, leading Varkoor and Jaesa into a corridor.

The sounds of battle faded until suddenly it was eerily silent. Just her and a bunch of dead guys. And the controls to a bomb that needed to be dealt with, in a hurry.

Screw this. Vark wasn't in here to 'give the all clear', whatever the hell that was supposed to mean. Vette had a job to do. Time to get to work.

She eased across the room, silent and stealthy. She glanced around a couple of times before she began tapping furiously into the computer terminal. She noticed movement out of the corner of her eye and sucked in a breath. A skinny Republic computer technician lay groaning among his fallen comrades. He writhed in pain on his back, clutching his midsection. She bit her lip, her gut twisting at the sight of raw suffering that she had helped cause…not this particular time, but there were others.

_Don't think about it._ She growled and kept working on destroying the bomb's command and targeting systems.

"Hold it right there, sweet thing. Step away from that control interface."

Vette froze, wincing as she realized the voice was right behind her. _Good going, Vette. Way to be situationally aware._ She stepped back and held her hands away from the computer without turning around to look at him.

"I don't think you want to mess with me, mister," she replied shakily. She heard Varkoor's roar and rapid cannon fire from deeper in the bowels of the bunker.

He chuckled, "Oh sure I do…especially since you Imps walked right into a trap."

"Look around you! Some trap! All your people are dead!" she crowed.

The man stepped right behind her, his raspy chuckle giving her the creeps. "Collateral damage. Your Sith won't have such an easy time of it now. Betcha didn't know you got a traitor in your midst, did ya?" the Republic commando said sibilantly.

"No, I didn't…but I appreciate the heads up," she replied sarcastically. Her voice turned pleading, "I'm serious. You need to leave while you still can. This won't end well for you," she said, even then wondering why she was bothering with warning someone who was likely about to kill her.

She squeaked as she was roughly relieved of both blasters. Her mouth dropped open in outrage as he thoroughly groped her, presumably feeling her up for hidden weapons. He jerked her arms behind her back and pulled her against him. The man's hot breath on her ear was a waft of tabac laced foulness that made her eyes water. "Oh, I'd say things are gonna end up mighty fine," he purred against her cheek. Vette winced and tried not to gag.

Angry shouts, the ringing report of heavy gunnery and the growling reverberation of a thrown lightsaber echoed from the far corridor. It sounded like they were getting closer. _C'mon Vark…Jaesa. Any time works for me…_

Vette feigned boredom. "Oh, here we go with the perving…honestly, it's pretty immature. What are you, twelve? You got nothing but hormones between your ears?" she said airily. If she was going to die, she was going to do her damnedest to get on her assailant's last nerve before she checked out. She specialized in desperate situation witty banter.

Her captor chuckled darkly, the plates of his commando's armor grinding into her back as he reached around to roughly grab her chin, forcing her to look at him. As humans went, this one was especially ugly, his face pockmarked and scarred, sporting an unkempt beard and wild, cruel eyes. "Mouthy little tart, aren't ya?

"You don't know the half of it."

"Once my boys finish off that Sith scum, we'll see what favors his whore has for us, yeah?" The man's bristly jaw scratched her face as he grunted his lascivious promise. She grimaced and leaned as far away from him as she could, squirming uselessly in his hold.

"Ugh! In your dreams, schutta breath!" Vette growled with more bravery than she felt.

He jerked her back angrily with a hiss, and unexpectedly, he abruptly released her, causing her to stumble forward. She quickly righted herself and turned, gasping at what she saw.

Her would-be assailant was dangling by an unseen chokehold. He grabbed for his neck uselessly and made the most horrifying sounds Vette had ever heard a living being make. It wasn't the sound of his voice…it was the sickening sound of bones and soft body parts and fluids being forcibly rearranged as his entire neck was crushed by an invisible macabre will. She watched, rooted in morbid fascination as blood gushed from his mouth and nose…even his grotesquely bulging eyes bled. Varkoor stood five feet away, virulent wrath sent out in blasts of heat as his fist manipulated the Force to violence.

Before she could even react, she heard a ragged growl behind her. The next ten seconds seemed to transpire in a surreal vacuum.

The injured Republic technician that Vette had noticed earlier had managed to heft a blaster rifle and was aiming it at Varkoor while he choked her attacker. "No! Vark, look out!" Her voice sounded strange and far off.

He ignored her, fallen to the Force, driven and blinded by hate.

She snarled, adrenaline surging, and dove for one of her blasters that the commando had dropped, and hit the ground hard, sliding a bit as she twisted her body, bracing herself with one arm, the other aimed right at the injured technician. Too late. Her heart stopped when the man fired several shots before she could stop him. His eyes were victorious, snapping back to hers as he trembled from his wounds.

She heard Varkoor's angry roar behind her as he was hit. The commando he'd been gratuitously maiming dropped to the ground like a rag doll.

Her eyes locked onto the technician's defiant face and she screamed in anger as she squeezed the trigger, satisfied to put two holes in that skinny bastard's forehead. She whimpered, dropping the blaster with a clatter and scrambling on her knees over to the fallen Sith lord.

She knelt over him, her hands hovering over his face and drifting gingerly over the arm that clutched his midsection. He was growling and trying to sit up, and flinched when she gently tried to pry his arm aside. She winced and removed her hand. "Kriffing…perfect," he said roughly through clenched teeth. His face was twisted in annoyance and pain.

"Vark…are you…oh franging hell," she tried to keep her voice calm, but she knew she failed. "I'm going to get you some kolto…"

He rolled to his side, "Don't…need that…" he grunted.

"Shut up, you're not in a position to argue," she murmured around shaky panic.

She pawed at the pockets of her pants, her utility belt, trying to make her brain work properly so she could find a stupid kolto shot. _I'm not a karking medic and I can't even remember basic first aid!_ And why would kolto be in her pants pockets? And who cared? Get the kriffing kolto! Varkoor had been shot because of her, and she couldn't string together intelligent thought. Kolto. He needed kolto. Pain relief…that he needed because of her. She burst into tears and spastically shook out her hands in frustration.

Varkoor let out a low ragged growl that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle. He slurred, "Vette, what're you _doin_ '?"

That snapped her out of it. She went from anguished panic to open mouthed anger that he could laugh at a time like this. "I'm having a freak out because you've been shot, do you mind?!"

He grunted a laugh and then groaned in pain with the movement. "If you think it'll be helpful, go right ahead," he muttered.

She finally spotted her pack few feet away, on the other side of the Sith's body. She stretched over his face, yanking the compartment open. Vette ripped into the first med pack she put her hands on and snatched a large dose kolto shot. It would dull his pain considerably, and would possibly knock him out. Beyond that, she wasn't sure what she would find once she pried his arm away from his midsection.

"What _happened_!?" Jaesa's voice cut into her thoughts. She jerked her head up and sagged in relief to see her friend running over, blessedly uninjured. Vette didn't think she could handle it if both of them needed her to keep a cool head. The whole incident had likely only taken a few seconds, though it felt like an eternity to Vette's adrenaline flooded system.

"He got _shot_ , Jaesa! I couldn't…I wasn't fast enough," she whined as she bit off the cap of the kolto shot and none too gently jabbed it into the Sith's meaty neck. He snarled and then after a few seconds relaxed, a drowsy smirk coming over his sharp features. His heavy lidded eyes were fixed on her and her stomach flipped. "Mmmm, that's nice…" His voice was molten, the timbre suddenly reminding her of the crystal cave. She looked up at Jaesa as she ran up to them.

Vette squeaked when she felt Varkoor's big hand snake up the outside of her thigh, finally coming to rest upon her hip. Her shocked gaze flew back to his face. His eyes were closed. She cleared her throat, looking back at Jaesa. "Um…that kolto is fast acting!"

Jaesa tried not to smile at the sight of Varkoor's hand resting so casually and possessively on Vette's hip, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Kolto obliterated all inhibitions when given in such a large dose.

It also acted as a veritable truth serum if the recipient didn't fall unconscious from the dose.

"Mmhmmm…that's what I hear," Jaesa replied in amusement as she knelt on the other side of Varkoor, opposite Vette. She closed her eyes and placed her hands over his heart for a moment as if listening. His Force presence was strong. He was not grievously injured. His right arm that had been protectively covering his wounds fell aside. They both gasped. Despite the fact that his wounds were rather mild, he was still bleeding, his black leatheris armor slick and sticky with blood.

No matter. He would be fine, Jaesa decided. She couldn't resist having a bit of fun in the meantime. "Master…tell me how you feel about Vette."

The Twi'lek's eyes widened in mortification and she hissed, "Jaesa, _you bitch!_ "

Jaesa grinned sweetly at her friend.

Varkoor answered by singing like a drunk who'd been arrested and thrown into the drunk tank to sleep it off. "If you want a lover…I'll do anything you ask me toooo," he rumbled.

Vette covered her face with her hands, "Oh, somebody please _kill me_."

His other hand squeezed her hip, moved to her wrist and attempted to tug her closer. He seemed completely unbothered by his injuries, or his behavior for that matter, thanks to the kolto. He kept singing off-key: "If you want a partner, take my hand, or if you wanna strike me down in anger, nnnngh, here I stannnnd, I'm yer man—" he lost the thread of the song he'd been drunk crooning and resumed tugging on Vette, "Why don't you c'mere, beautiful…"

Vette's blush deepened and she sputtered, unprepared for his action. She glared at a giggling Jaesa as she pulled from his grasp and cleared her throat, completely wrong footed. His loopy grin only became more predatory.

Jaesa coughed in a lame attempt to mask the giggle that threatened to erupt at his kolto-induced behavior.

"It's the kolto…s'why he's acting…like that," Vette muttered. She scowled at Jaesa.

"S'what I _always_ wanna do…" the drugged Sith lord protested with an exaggerated pout. Jaesa snorted. The entertainment value was priceless.

Vette put her hand over his mouth and tried her hardest to glare at him. "Stop it. You aren't helping." She glanced at Jaesa. "I must have given him too much."

"Mmhmm, must have," Jaesa agreed skeptically. "Even without looking, I know his wounds aren't serious. His Force presence is as bright as ever. We need to get out of here, though. Now."

Vette growled. "Stop doing that… _thing_!"

"What thing?"

"Mmmmhmmmm," Vette mimicked. "And stop trying to get him to _say_ …things!"

Jaesa looked innocent. "Am I doing that?"

"Yes! Do you really think now is the time for teasing and jokes?" She glanced down at the pureblood, who was currently blowing raspberries against her hand, and then snorting at his own cleverness. She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, rapidly approaching overload. This would be hilarious if they weren't currently sitting in the middle of a Republic stronghold just waiting to be discovered.

Jaesa pursed her lips primly and made an attempt to look serious. "Of course not."

Vette huffed, only slightly mollified. "Right…let's get outta here,"

She still felt his hand sliding up her thigh and shivered. She stood up quickly, Jaesa following suit. The two women wasted no time each hefting one of the Sith lord's thick arms and proceeded to drag him out of the bunker.

"You did get the bomb neutralized, didn't you?" Jaesa panted, grunting with the effort of transporting their burden. He was one of the far more massive representations of his species and as it was, he was kriffing _heavy_ , even for the two of them. Varkoor's head lolled to the side. It looked like he'd fallen asleep, though he was growling a weak protest at being dragged.

Vette made a face as she struggled hefting her share of the Sith lord. "Yeah, I toasted it. It's not going anywhere."

They finally made it outside of the bunker and scanned the area, their vision filling with the grim landscape of their earlier battle. The air was still, heavy with the weight of death and conquest. Finding a place that was out of sight was of desperate importance because at any moment, Republic reinforcements could arrive.

They soon dragged Varkoor to an indentation in the jagged rock face, further into the canyon. It didn't look like much until they were close to it. One had to wind through enormous ice shards to get to the space within. It was an alcove in the cliffside, open to the sky.

They decided by mutual agreement that Jaesa would go fetch a speeder from among the dead of their enemies. They would evacuate the canyon themselves as it would be too risky to signal a medical transport. There was no telling how long they had before the Republic caught wind of what happened here. They couldn't waste any more time.

Once Jaesa was gone, Vette sank to her knees on the cold ground, next to him, all the emotions from the past few days filling her chest, almost to where she couldn't breathe. He appeared to be sleeping, as the effects of the painkiller fully took hold. She busied herself with unwrapping the new head band from her head and carefully tucked it behind his head. She fingered the fine material of the fur-lined wrap, still shocked that he'd bought it for her. When Jaesa had given it to her early this morning, saying it was from Varkoor, she'd been incredulous. But it was just like him to avoid giving it to her himself. Her stomach flipped. Her fingers lingered a split second on the side of his neck. She marveled for a moment at the rich deep red of his skin.

She didn't know how long she sat there with him, watching his chest rise and fall. She'd never been near him like this, and it did something to her, awakened a foreign something powerful and primal within her…a desire to crawl up inside of him and let instinct take over. She felt too big for her body, like an undiscovered need had taken hold of her at the sight of Varkoor laying there. The urge to lay down at his side and cleave to him was almost overpowering. He was always on alert when at rest, his power muted but no less pulsing with predacious vigilance. Like this, he was vulnerable…and looked so young. She could not take her eyes off of him, and bit her lip with a shudder.

Being so near to him, she allowed herself to stare. He was appealing to her in his wild unpredictability…not handsome in the conventional sense, but her attraction to him was insanely powerful. He was no suave Twi'lek man, who knew his own power over women. Varkoor was coiled darkness, an enigma, because he was pureblood that defied every pureblood stereotype. He was soft spoken and preferred the shadows to attention and renown. He shaved his head, eschewing vanity which was so common for the males of his species who often preened over their silken locks and were meticulous with their appearance. Varkoor didn't festoon himself with bright jewelry like so many of his species preferred…yet Vette's eyes were always drawn to him the more he hid himself beneath his trademark cowl.

But like this…relaxed by the effects of painkillers…his face and head uncovered and his inhibitions shattered, he was more alluring than ever. His wild electric scent filled her awareness and her longing for him flared. Yes, she loved him. The knowledge scared her, but it was what it was.

_I love a Sith lord._

The thought of losing him sent a sharp stab of pain through her soul, yet superimposed over that was the warmth that filled her at the knowledge that he would protect her at all costs.

_He loves me too…for real. Jaesa is right. How many ways must he show me before I believe him?_

"You nearly got yourself killed, you big oaf," she murmured. She traced the ridges of his face, over the sharp spurs of his brows and cheek bones and finally along regal chin tendrils. His countenance tensed for a moment and her breath hitched when he pushed his face into her hand and growled in contentment.

"For a moment of your touch, like this…I'd do it again in a heartbeat," his words were a slurred hoarse rumble and she gasped, instinctively pulling her hand back. Her stomach erupted in a flutter as she realized he was awake.

His eyes opened halfway, meeting her startled blue eyes. She recovered quickly and cleared her throat. She had no idea how to respond to such a declaration. They were alone, with nothing but the riotous sky's canvas of a wild nebulae streaked galaxy to mark their communion. She murmured stupidly, her voice thin. "Um…are you in pain?"

Varkoor winced and managed to halfway sit up. "I'll live. I do have a problem, though," His gaze was fixed upon her, making her want to fidget. He was far too lucid for the amount of kolto he'd taken into his system.

"Aside from getting shot by a computer technician?" she quipped to cover her own nervousness.

Varkoor pinned her with a penetrating gaze. "I must tell you something. According to Jaesa, it would be in my best interests," his words were uncharacteristically slurred but his eyes were bright and hungry.

"Oh yeah? Well, I need to tell you something too, mister! Did I ever tell you I have a fear of being shot to death on a forsaken frozen world?"

"Yes. While we were on Hoth. About a dozen times, while slinking through a pirate's lair," He blinked slowly, his stare never wavering from her face.

She sputtered at his easy answer. "Well, I never imagined I'd have to worry about _you_ getting shot…how does that even _happen_ , Mr. My-lightsaber-is-a-blur-of-awesome?" She half teased as she dug around her pack, trying to distract herself from the intensity of his gaze. She withdrew a bacta-soaked bandage and made to rip it out of its packaging. His hand closed around her wrist to stop her.

"Maybe I'm subconsciously trying to tell you something because I'm too daft to tell you the easy way," Varkoor's voice was smooth as flowing lava, and his normally scowling features an open book of besotted affection. Vette shivered.

"Tell me what?" she whispered, afraid and exhilarated to hear what he'd say.

"That the sight of that human pawing you…touching you, drove me to madness…"

Vette swallowed hard and bit her lip. She felt like bursting into flames from the heat of his gaze yet the fear of her own reaction to him confused her.

"Do you know how distracting it is when you do that?" he murmured, his gaze locked on her mouth.

Vette's heart pounded. "Wh-what? Do what?"

"Bite your lip…" he reached out and clumsily ran his thumb along her lower lip. "Stars, you have no idea how beautiful you are. I can't take my eyes off of you…and by the Force, I'm crazy about you. What I'm saying…I'm always thinking. Can never seem to say the words."

"Vark…" she whispered, her heart pounding and his words wrapping around her like a caress. Such sweet sentiments flowing so freely from this man made her heart sing.

"You…the kolto…you aren't yourself," she whispered, not really believing that excuse for his current behavior…not anymore. The strength of what existed between them was too real. Her eyes dropped closed at the faint electricity of his fingertips tracing her mouth.

He swayed unsteadily as he leaned forward on one arm, trying to scoot closer to her. He made a frustrated sound and clumsily cupped her head, his fingertips tickling the underside of her lekku. He hissed with fierce conviction as he loomed inches from her face. He curled his lip and chuckled.

She didn't think he could look more appealing to her, half drugged, red eyes heavy lidded and fixed upon her. Her heart thudded in her chest.

" _Myself_ …wants you, Vette…and _nothing_ but my desire for you compels me…no Force delusion, no drug induced delirium…" he growled in a deep hoarse voice, "Stars, I tried to tell you in the cave how utterly unmade I am by everything about you, but I got in the way of myself…" His lips found hers even as he still whispered, his voice full of wonder, "You want me too…I can feel it."

Vette made a high pitched noise in her throat and nodded. He grunted his want as their mutual desire seemed to ignite at the contact. Tears streaked down her cheeks as Vette melted into his kiss, the remembrance of his taste meeting reality once again, making the moment stand still. Her objections melted away to insignificance until all that remained was the bright joining of this kiss. She moaned, helpless against the onslaught of sensations wrought on her mind, heart and body at his nearness, his touch.

Before she knew what was happening, he deepened the kiss, his movements frantic and pleading, clumsy with the effects of the kolto, but no less ardor filled. There was none of the halting tenderness of last time. Vette mewled and responded on instinct, experimentally darting her tongue to meet his, eliciting an answering moan from him as he hungrily devoured her mouth in mounting excitement. She drifted along in a fog of ecstatic need, her center becoming heavy and warm, all but forgetting her promise to her mother to save her virtue for the man she married. In her mind, there was no other man than the one who was currently devastating her senses. She held his face in both hands, standing on her knees as she pressed herself against him. He growled in approval. Her senses were filled with him and she sighed in pleasure…and then her eyes widened in horror, remembering his injuries. She tore her mouth away.

"We shouldn't be doing this…Vark, your wounds…stop," she panted, horrified by how wanton she sounded. He growled as her head fell back, and he latched his mouth to her throat.

Her hands slid from his face to his shoulders, kneading frantically as her common sense warred with her churning emotions and runaway desire.

His mouth was nowhere near finished at the privation of her mouth. Starving and driven, he mumbled into her flesh, laving a trail of fire to her collarbone. "Shut up. I'm doing what Jaesa ordered me to do. Don't tell me you haven't gotten the same lecture."

Vette smiled as her hands played over the stubbly surface of his scalp, running her fingers over the striations of his heritage.

He purred, "I will not stop until you realize I want…all of you, not just a moment, but all the time, forever."

Her breath hitched as the full meaning of his words washed over her. _He loves me…_

"I can't think with you doing that…nnngh…." she made a strangled noise at the sinful things he was doing to her neck, "…with your mouth…franging hells, Vark, yes, I get it, you are very talented…" she tried to inject levity into the moment in an attempt to regain her equilibrium. Her head swam as she gently pulled away from him.

He growled and stole one last kiss before acquiescing. "Do you believe me? I will not withdraw or hide, I promise, Vette," he whispered earnestly.

She froze as she heard the sounds of a speeder in the distance getting closer. Her eyes dropped closed, his words lulling her. The picture of a beautiful Rutian twi'lek with haunted eyes filled her mind. Varkoor was a Sith…but his actions distinguished him from others.

His eyes burned with determination as he kissed her once more before Jaesa returned with the stolen Republic speeder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When Varkoor is singing like a drunk, I didn't actually make that song up. It's written by Leonard Cohen and called 'I'm your man'. Again, I have no explanation for myself, it had to be done. LOL
> 
> Also, I drew Varkoor, what he looks like in my mind anyway lol...here it is on deviantArt http://arowell.deviantart.com/art/Sith-Pureblood-colored-600149385


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A whole plate of dark side cookies goes to Feravai for her encouragement and feedback. :D

**Chapter 7**

"You were fortunate, my lord. The bolts merely grazed you, though the wounds are both quite deep. The risk of infection concerns me."

The pinch-faced man fussed over the Sith lord, who sat upright on an exam table in the med center.

Vette stood at Varkoor's side opposite the base's chief medic, who was currently demonstrating his complete lack of bedside manner…not that Varkoor paid him any heed. His awareness was singly focused upon the twi'lek. He held her hand, his thumb rhythmically stroking her slender wrist, uncaring that the medic glowered, even under a thin facade of deference.

Varkoor lifted their joined hands and pressed his lips to the heel of her palm, his eyes burning into hers. She self consciously caught her lower lip between her teeth and then smiled shyly at him. His heart thudded in his chest at the sight.

The Sith lord didn't flinch as his whole right side was doused in ice cold bacta and thoroughly scrubbed by the frowning muttering human. Above a deep gouge in his side where a blaster bolt had grazed him, there was another deeper grazing wound, so deep one of his ribs was visible.

He was grateful for the injuries…they had created a situation, thanks to painkillers, where he'd had no choice but to spill his guts out and be honest with her, even if he'd looked like a complete arse while doing so. Now that he'd told her the truth, and it was clear she felt the same, he didn't want her out of his sight. His hands twitched to touch her all over. The drive to claim her made him tremble.

She frowned. "Are you cold?"

"No," his voice cracked. "No, it's just the bacta…it's freezing," he lied.

"You could be a little gentler, ya know…we just saved your life. Ingrate." she groused to the cranky healer, who emphatically ignored her.

Varkoor sucked in a breath as her other hand wrapped around his bicep as she leaned into him, likely just in a comforting way. She had no clue how her every innocent touch set him on fire. He took in a deep pull of her scent, her familiar fragrance inflaming him.

He felt like a sleeping beast had been awakened with the knowledge that she accepted his advances. A voice in the back of his consciousness once again reminded him to tread carefully with her. His sanity desperately clung to that wisdom. His instinct longed to taste every inch of her…and he feared that once he started down that course, he would not be able to stop.

He didn't want to scare her.

Right now, he just wanted to be alone with her, and ground his teeth, his voice rough and guttural, "Just bind it and be done. I don't have time for this."

The medic pursed his thin lips and straightened. "Apologies, my lord, but I recommend a few hours in the bacta tank to ensure complete healing occurs and infection does not take hold. Injuries such as this can turn serious if proper care is not taken."

Varkoor snarled in disgust and was about to get up from the table when Vette's small hand on his chest stopped him. "Please just do it, for me…it's my fault it happened," she murmured.

"It wasn't your fault. All this fuss is unnecessary," he replied.

Her beautiful face was marred with worry. "C'mon, please? It'll make me feel better about disobeying orders," she tried to joke.

His face softened and his mouth tipped up on one side. He had no power to deny her anything. "I will, only because you ask it."

She blushed, breaking eye contact with him and biting her lip. Varkoor felt powerful desire stir at the sight of her white teeth abusing that delectable lower lip and rumbled a low laugh. "You're already getting your way…no need to resort to such ruthless tactics."

Her eyes widened and she glanced furtively at the medic, who had turned away to adjust the settings on the bacta tank. "Tactics? What're you—"

He took advantage of her confusion and pulled her closer by their joined hands, and brushed his lips against hers. He loved how her breathing sped up at his touch. She made a surprised sound in her throat but did not resist him.

He was about to explore her mouth further when the medic cleared his throat.

Vette squeaked and tried to pull away, but Varkoor wouldn't have it. He took his time sweeping his tongue over the lower lip that so enthralled him and gently took it between his teeth. When she responded to his actions with a little nip of her own, his self-control nearly snapped.

There was a long moment where they both lingered on the tail end of a kiss that felt woefully brief, and the reassuring squeeze she gave his hand was enough to bring him back to sanity.

He finally broke the contact with Vette's heavenly mouth and fixed his glare upon the medic. Vette was blushing deeply as she tried to pull away, though he would not release her hand. The medic was scowling disapprovingly.

"My lord, if your… _companion_ …could step outside, I will ready you for the bacta-tank." Varkoor curled his lip threateningly at the man's sneering undertone in regards to Vette. The medic shrank back in fear.

"She stays," the Sith growled.

"Y-yes, my lord, of course."

Vette huffed. "Vark, really it's ok…"

At that moment, Jaesa swept into the room. "I've spoken with the Grand Moff's lieutenant, Master. Regus is eager to confer with you as soon as you are healed up. I've also checked in on Major Pierce, and he's resting and healing nicely."

"Pierce must have had a different medic," Vette said loudly. The healer still ignored her.

"You have my thanks, Jaesa," the Sith said, smirking at Vette's temerity. Jaesa waggled her eyebrows at his and Vette's joined hands. Varkoor rolled his eyes. The damned girl missed nothing.

"Of course, Master. How are you feeling?"

He reluctantly released Vette's hand as the medic handed him the breathing mask he'd have to wear while submerged. He waved the thing in annoyance. "I'd be better if I didn't have to submit to this foolishness."

Vette took that opportunity to gather up his bloody armor and cloak. She waved him off and looked at Jaesa, the medic, at anything but him. "You'll get over it and you'll thank me later. Trust me. I'm going to get you something clean to put on when you're done here."

Jaesa snorted. "It'll do you good, Master!"

His eyes hooded when he caught Vette sneaking another glance at him, her gaze sweeping his chest. Her emotions caressed him in a seductive wave, her naive curiosity calling to his predator instinct. _Soon, my beauty…_

The medic began shooing both women out of the room. "Lord Wrath needs at least three hours submerged in the bacta. You may return then."

"Are you deaf? I said she stays."

The medic sneered. "Of course, my lord. I must ask you to remove the rest of your clothing before stepping into the tank."

"Oh, by the Force," Varkoor growled as he started yanking at the fasteners of his kilt. He possessed not an ounce of modesty, even with women present.

"Alriiighty then, that's my cue to get lost!" Jaesa covered her eyes and tugged on Vette's sleeve.

Vette grinned sheepishly at his surliness, and reluctantly allowed herself to be tugged out of the room by Jaesa. "I'll be here when you wake up, ok?"

His eyes smoldered as he grinned roguishly at the twi'lek, still deftly unbuckling his clothing. "I'm counting on it."

Vette looked like she was going to faint at his suggestiveness and the two women exploded in giggles as they fled the room.

* * *

Jaesa squealed once they were out of earshot. "Freaking finally! I knew my little talk with him last night made an impression. Who knew he could flirt like that?"

Vette made a noise that was meant to be an outraged gasp but came out a breathless giggle. "I think the kolto helped…"

" _Nuh uh_ , he's lucid, girlfriend. That was _all him_ just now," she snickered.

Vette looked almost smug as she murmured, "It was, wasn't it?"

"Force alive, I'd have jabbed you both with kolto a lot sooner if I knew this would happen! Truth serum for the _win_!" Jaesa crowed as they hurried out of the medical wing of the base.

Vette flushed as she hefted Varkoor's armor closer to her even as she fumbled for her comlink. "Shut up, you hussy," she said without any heat. She was still smiling like a fool.

Jaesa playfully shoved her shoulder into Vette's with a sassy tongue in teeth grin. "Make me!"

Vette stumbled in a fit of giggles as she spoke into her com. "Toovee, I need you to bring me one of Master Varkoor's cloaks and a clean set of robes. We are in the Imperial Base in the commissary."

"Of course, mistress, and might I also bring to your attention the additions I have made to the galley menu. As I have stated before, the importance of biologic fuel consumption for organics is—"

"Later, Toovee. Just the clothes, ok?"

"Right away, mistress."

She was tucking her com back in her coat when Varkoor's com beeped an incoming transmission from within a deep pocket of his cloak. She and Jaesa exchanged a look. Vette shrugged and pulled it out, hitting the answer button.

Her voice reflected baffled surprise at who was calling. "Lord Rathari?"

The hulking, hooded Sith was standing with his hands clasped behind his back. He inclined his head respectfully. "Greetings, my lady." He paused noticing Jaesa. His voice dropped in pitch and he smirked. "… _ladies_. I'm calling the Empire's Wrath on behalf of Darth Vowrawn and Dr. Kyros. As they are both currently engaged in the laboratory, I was asked to let him know of our arrival at the Ilum Orbital Station."

"You're with them?" Vette blurted, and both women glanced at each other in puzzlement.

"It is my honor to guard Dr. Kyros for Darth Varkoor."

Vette covered her mouth to hide her amusement. "You've got a strong stomach, dude."

Rathari frowned. "I wish to speak with him right away."

"You can't. Not right now. He's…um…in a bacta-tank for a couple of hours." Vette replied sheepishly.

"He's been injured?"

"Sort of. Yeah. He'll be fine." Vette added hurriedly. She winced at Jaesa, who was looking at Rathari with narrowed eyes, biting her lip.

The huge Sith stroked his chin and looked right at Jaesa. "I will come to ascertain my lord's condition myself."

"Fine. Just don't go reporting to his mom—er, Dr. Kyros why you're coming! Vark doesn't need her storming the base." She shuddered at the thought, and muttered to herself, "Nobody needs that…"

Rathari paused and then nodded. "Duly noted, my lady. I will arrive to the surface shortly. Rathari out." His image flickered and it was gone.

"Good call, Vette," Jaesa whispered in approval, as if she expected a hysterical pureblood woman to come tearing through the base at any moment.

"Yeah, no doubt. The last thing we all need is that woman freaking out over what happened. Ugh. I'd forgotten she was on her way here…something about the crystals." Her expression suddenly went incredulous. "Did he just call me 'my lady'? What Sith even _does_ that?"

Jaesa wore a frank look of disapproval. " _Weird_ ones…like him."

Vette snorted in agreement. "Yeah. Although…" she looked sidelong at Jaesa and her eyes narrowed deviously. "He's kinda cu—"

Jaesa shot her a glare and cut her off, slashing the air in front of her with her hand, her cheeks darkening. "He's _weird_."

Vette held up her hands, trying to keep from smiling. _Payback time._ "Chill, woman! I didn't disagree with you or even say anything else."

"You started to and you were thinking it. No. Just no. Absolutely _not_." Vette bit back a smirk.

"Whatever you say. I'm going to go try and catch a few winks on that uncomfortable looking couch in the med center. We got a few hours to kill. I can't _imagine_ why Rathari is in a hurry to get _here_ ," She grinned evilly at Jaesa and then yawned hugely, the exhaustion from the past few days galloping upon her.

"You can't seriously go to sleep, Vette. One of Master's 'former' enemies with a past as a ruthless crime lord is on his way here now! Don't even _think_ about leaving me alone with him!"

Vette grinned at her friend and another yawn nearly swallowed her words. "Use your gift on him! You'll see, he's ridiculously loyal to Vark."

"It's not his _loyalty_ that concerns me," she muttered.

Vette raised a brow, waiting for Jaesa to elaborate. Jaesa groaned and covered her blushing face with her hands.

Just then, Toovee, the faithful factotum droid of the _Scythe_ shuffled over to them in the midst of the bustling commissary, carrying a large duffle. Vette took it and hefted it by the strap, dumping the SIth's bloody clothes in the droid's outstretched arms. "Thanks, Toovee."

"You are most welcome, kind mistress. I've taken the liberty of including sustenance specifically for your benefit. My my, the climate of this planet wreaks havoc upon my delicate circuits. If there won't be anything else, I shall resume my post aboard the _Scythe_."

"Sounds good, Toovee. We'll let you know if there is anything else."

Jaesa grabbed her arm in desperation as they made their way back to the medical corridor. "We're sticking together until Master is released, woman." she hissed.

Vette snorted. "Rathari won't bite you…well, probably not _hard_ anyway. He's harmless as a baby nexu." She giggled when Jaesa's mouth dropped open, an alarmed squeak escaping. "Honestly, if you don't want him flirting with you, just tell him to stop. Simple."

"You _know_ he _won't!_ " Jaesa hissed desperately. "Have you forgotten the Dark Council chambers? He begged me to go to dinner with him even after I told him to get lost! Good thing I didn't slap him…he probably would have proposed!"

Vette plopped down onto the worn sofa and curled up in a corner, covering up with Varkoor's cloak. "Then use the Force on him or something…or one of those Jedi mind tricks," she smiled sweetly, her eyes already closing, clearly unconcerned with Jaesa's predicament.

Jaesa growled, "Traitor!" The twi'lek was already softly snoring.

Jaesa threw her hands up and hurried back to the crowded commissary. She would feel safer if there were lots of people around. Better yet, maybe Rathari wouldn't be able to find her if she stayed out of the medical wing of the base.

She found a vendor whose whole stock was geared toward making the lives of soldiers in a frozen wilderness bearable…and to feed their bad habits. She made a face at the selection of dirty magazines and began browsing the colorful offerings of sweets and cigarettes, as if such things interested her greatly. Her eyes darted around as she absently picked up a carton of Dewback UltraLight 100s. Thankfully, there were a ton of people milling around in the late evening, most of them soldiers returned from field patrol.

"You gonna buy them smokes, love, or just stroke 'em?" the vendor drawled with a cackle.

"Maybe both," she snapped as she pet the carton and then dropped it back on the display, sticking her tongue out at the man.

She meandered around the stalls for a while, and breathed a sigh of relief that just maybe she'd managed to evade the persistent Sith lord.

No such luck.

"Ah, the lady Jaesa, a bright and delicate flower amongst weeds, just as I remember."

Jaesa winced as she heard Lord Rathari's deep quiet voice, and looked up from the saber hilts she'd been examining. She grudgingly admitted to herself that the broad shouldered Sith lord was easy to look at…his dark side pallor, forehead cybernetics notwithstanding.

She couldn't help a split second peek up and down his form. He wore his armor quite well…no doubt about that.

"Lord Rathari. Err…hello." She set down the hilt and backed clumsily into the wall as the burly Sith lord advanced slowly, coming to stand right in front of her. He planted one hand on the wall and looked down at her with a lazy besotted grin on his face. He caught one of her hands by the fingertips and planted a suave lingering kiss on her knuckles. Her breath hitched in her throat at his boldness.

"Hello there. It's a simple matter spotting such radiance in a crowd," he murmured.

"What do you want, my lord?"

"There are many things that I want, my lady. Preeminent among them is before me now."

"Please don't call me that, my lord. The medical wing is _that_ way." She gestured with her head.

"You just called me lord…and you are _most certainly_ …a lady," he oozed.

She cleared her throat nervously and tried not to notice the vivid green of his eyes and how good he smelled. "You're _most certainly_ making me uncomfortable."

"The moment I laid eyes on you I was struck by your beauty…your burning light."

"How nice. Eloquent words, my lord. Only one problem. You're full of nerfshit," she replied caustically in a conversational tone of voice.

His verdant eyes smoldered with heat. By the Force, the more she rebuffed him, the more it seemed to encourage him.

His voice dropped in pitch and became rougher. "Then use your sight on me, my lovely. See for yourself that I am true."

She really wanted to…but she was afraid that she would find he was being truthful about his…outlandish declarations. She wished he were someone she could simply ignore and write off as full of crap. Trouble was, he was starting to get to her. Her stomach flipped pleasantly.

"Your first meeting with my master was marked by deceit and lies as a glorified mob boss on Nar Shaddaa. You trafficked with _Hutts_!" He started to speak but she cut him off. "Oh yes, I read your file, Rathari. Truth is not in your vocabulary," she pronounced archly, as if she were a judge passing sentence. She deliberately avoided his request and crossed her arms.

Rathari dropped to one knee and gazed up at her imploringly, one hand outstretched and palm upward and the other over his heart. "I've given it all up! And I'd give it all up a thousand times over to win such a goddess as you."

Jaesa slapped her forehead and groaned. "Seriously? Are you really kneeling?!" He grabbed one of her hands, only to kiss it again.

His sweeping gestures of chivalry were becoming embarrassing. People were starting to stare. "Please, Jaesa. I am a changed man," he begged. "Allow me to prove myself to you."

She pulled her hand free and tugged on his thick bicep. He wouldn't budge. " _Get up!_ " she hissed. "Are you crazy?"

He spread his arms wide and closed his eyes. "Your power and purity call to me. Such searing light…" he groaned and pinned her with his intense gaze. He growled with conviction, "Oh Jaesa, use your power on me and you will see that I am hopelessly in love with you."

Jaesa slapped him. Hard. "Snap out of it!" she shouted. As expected, her anger only inflamed him more. Someone close by gasped.

He was like a lovesick nexu and gazed up at her adoringly, his grin predatory. "Impossible."

She threw her hands up and stalked off. Imperial personnel around them were snickering, and not even trying to be discreet about gawking. No way was anyone brave enough to come to her rescue and tell the massive Sith lord to leave a lady alone. _Cowards_. Yes, he was getting to her…but he was going to have to do better than this.

He was right on her heels, and he growled savagely, "You're beautiful when you're furious."

* * *

Vette woke up in a most agreeable position. She moaned hoarsely as she hovered between wakefulness and blessed slumber, and realized she was in Varkoor's arms as he strode with a purpose down the ramp of the Orbital Station shuttle. She breathed deeply in happiness. His hold tightened slightly around her. There were definitely worse ways to wake up.

"Mmmm…what time is it? What day is it?" she murmured.

"0400. We were in the Republic bunker yesterday."

"Wow…I've been asleep a while."

"After I was released from the infirmary, Rathari, Jaesa and I met with Malgus and Regus. I wanted you to sleep." He growled. "I also didn't want Malgus anywhere near you."

"Thank you…" she whispered, looking up at him, warmed by the protectiveness he didn't even try to hide. He glanced down at her as he walked then looked straight ahead, but his mouth tipped up slightly. He stepped into an elevator that would take them to the level where the _Scythe_ was docked.

"You're welcome, Vette."

The elevator hummed as they were swiftly carried to the appropriate level. Vette cleared her throat, her awareness zeroed in on the feel of his arms holding her body close, as if she weighed nothing. To him, that was likely the case. "Um…Vark?"

"Yes?"

"I can walk…you don't have to carry me."

"Do you object?" he replied without looking at her.

"N-no…not really."

"If it's all the same to you, I'm quite enjoying myself. Indulge me."

She smiled, bit her lip and snuggled closer. "Fine with me, big guy."

Once inside the ship, he set her on her feet near the jumpseat. He looked down at her intently. The ship hummed quietly and she wondered if they were alone. Toovee was powered down, so they were spared his exuberant greeting.

"How's your side?" she asked, trying to sound casual.

"The wounds are completely closed. Not even sore."

She sighed in relief. "I was so scared when you got shot. I've never felt fear like that in my life."

He smirked and lightly ran his knuckle over her cheekbone, stopping at her chin and tipping it up. She shivered at his touch. "You worried for me?"

"Well, _duh_! If that guy's aim had been better, you'd be…" she swallowed and closed her eyes. "I'm sorry for going against orders, Vark. Will you forgive me?"

He leaned down and inhaled at her neck, his hands grasping her hips. His voice was a hypnotic rumble that tickled her skin. "There is nothing to forgive. If it hadn't have happened, I wouldn't be doing this…" his mouth traveled slowly up her neck and she gasped, her hands flying to his shoulders, "or this…" he kissed along her jaw, peppering his progress with playful little nips "….or especially this…" she made a noise in her throat as he did the thing he seemed to not be able to get enough of, and closed his mouth over hers in a scorching kiss that left her breathless.

When he finally withdrew, she knew she must look a boneless mess. He looked at her with such hunger that her stomach fluttered.

"Whoa…maybe one day I'll figure out how to give as good as I get…" she breathed.

"Later. Quite frankly, if you did now, we'd never get anything done." She blushed deeply at his innuendo. "But for now I want you to stay here. That's an _order_. The rest of us can handle the refinery."

She sighed. "I earned that didn't I? OK, you win. I'll stay here. I feel like I might be coming down with something anyway."

The concern that came over his face was followed by a stern scowl. "Then you're _definitely_ not going anywhere. Besides…" he sat down on the jumpseat and pulled her down next to him and began nosing around her neck with a growl, making her giggle. "I don't want you anywhere near Malgus. I'm considering killing him just for looking at you, the prat."

"You haven't told me about the meeting with Regus. I guess disabling the bomb and decimating a Republic base wasn't good enough for him?"

"Something like that. I'm about to meet with Vowrawn…" he sighed and rubbed his face with a resigned look, "…and my mother. Apparently, she and her team have been running tests since arriving and came across some troubling results with these crystals. And I'm hoping Vowrawn has more for me regarding Malgus." His expression darkened.

"Sounds heavy. I guess you need to go meet with them, huh?" she crawled in his lap, straddling him so she could face him while they talked. She frowned in confusion when he groaned. He seized her hips, reflexively squeezing. He dropped his head to the back of the couch and blew out a shaky sigh. She wondered if she'd upset him.

"What's wrong? Something I said?"

Varkoor barked a laugh and gently lifted her off his lap and set her next to him on the jumpseat. "No, Vette…nothing you said. You are… _exceedingly_ tempting and you don't even know it."

His words didn't compute for a few seconds and then she flushed to the tips of her lekku. She felt baffled, sort of the way she'd feel when Taunt used to tease her for being so innocent, whatever that meant. She drew her knees up and rested her chin on them, looking at him hopefully. "Umm…is that good?"

He tipped her chin and ran his thumb over her lips. Intense was a weak word to describe the look in his eyes. Ravenous was closer to the mark. Vette's stomach flipped and she figured she didn't have to understand everything. She was with him and that was all that mattered.

"You definitely give as good as you get," he murmured. He lightly kissed her lips and then heaved himself up from the couch with a sigh to put some distance between them, presumably. He sat casually against the edge of the holoterminal, crossing his arms and looking intently at her.

She bit her lip and the light finally came on. "Ooohhh." Then her eyes widened. "OH. Um. Ok. Thanks? I think?" He broke into a boyish grin when she finally got it.

She scowled and muttered, "Excuse me for not being experienced."

"I prefer you this way. It's adorable. If we were both in the state of mind I'm currently in, we'd be holed up for the next month in that room over there." He pointed absently to the entrance to his bedroom.

Her mouth dropped open and she tried not to grin. "You're impossible!"

"I'm starting to get the feeling you like it." he rumbled smoothly.

She pouted. "Maybe. So um…I guess you need to go now? I can't say I'm not relieved to get to miss the meeting with your mother. I'm sure she'll be _oh so thrilled_ when she finds out…" she blushed again and gestured between the two of them, "um…about us."

His expression became serious. "She'll deal with it."

Vette suddenly felt insecure and small. "So um…about this. Us. I was going to bring it up earlier but I was too busy worrying about you." She broke her gaze from his. "Why me? I'm just…"

He suddenly was right in front of her, kneeling on the floor before her. Damn Force users and their freaky speed. She still sat on the jumpseat and he insinuated himself between her knees so he could take her in his arms. Her eyes widened at the vehemence she saw etched on his features. "Why you? You're beautiful, charming, brilliant…you're a little bit crazy, you keep me sane. Vette…it's _always_ been you."

She swallowed hard, a bit dizzy from being the primary focus of a super intense Sith lord. "Um…wow. Speechless," she replied stupidly. _Smooth, Vette. He has the uncanny ability to render you stupid and tongue-tied._

She managed a shy smile and with a boldness she didn't feel she leaned forward and awkwardly brushed his lips with hers. His reaction was instantaneous and overwhelming. He growled and responded hungrily. She let out a muffled whimper and could barely keep up with him. He pulled away with difficulty.

"Like I said, never get anything done…" he murmured.

"To be continued," she said saucily.

"Definitely, you minx," he rumbled playfully.

"So I take it Jaesa survived Rathari," Vette giggled, tracing her finger over the edge of his cloak.

Varkoor snorted. "I think it more apt to say Rathari survived Jaesa. They are both coming with me to the refinery, and I'm grateful for the strength they offer…but I might just knock their heads together before it's all over. On the way to talk to Regus, I found Jaesa looking rather rumpled and flustered, and not far on her heels an all too smug Rathari. If you ask me, I'd say she looked guilty. I don't want to know. I really don't."

Vette laughed. "Oh, I do…she's going to spill _everything_."

Varkoor shook his head. "You women are completely insane."

* * *

Varkoor was admitted to the orbital station laboratory without fanfare. He spotted his mother standing next to Vowrawn as they spoke in low tones, a few paces away from a group of busy research assistants. He rolled his eyes to take note of their close proximity to one another.

Both of them glanced up at the same time and his mother rushed over to him. "My lord…we've been waiting for your arrival. We have much to discuss." Thankfully, she had sense enough to maintain decorum in the presence of her subordinates.

"Dr. Kyros…Darth Vowrawn."

Vowrawn regarded him calmly, a slight smile on his face. "I trust Rathari has found you. I've placed him at your disposal for the duration of our stay on Ilum. I don't believe anyone could have prevented him, in any event."

"You have my thanks," Varkoor inclined his head respectfully at Vowrawn.

"Thank the Force. Ravilan, the man has been underfoot and driving me up the wall ever since you assigned him to guard duty," she informed the elder Sith haughtily.

Vowrawn laughed. "He takes his duties to the Empire's Wrath very seriously. I could think of no better bodyguard for you, my dear."

Z'kara huffed and rolled her eyes. "He's been an absolute pest. I don't need constant guarding."

Varkoor snorted in amusement. "I agree with Vowrawn. I wished I'd thought of it sooner. He's a powerful Sith, there is none better to protect you…and he owes me."

"Well, let him owe you as _your_ bodyguard, then," she replied sullenly.

"To the business at hand," Vowrawn changed the subject. "It would seem the Empire might be jumping the gun regarding this stealth technology. Z'kara?"

The petite pureblood woman nodded and pulled her datapad out of her lab coat pocket, switching back to scientist mode. "It's just as I've feared for months now. I won't bore you with the science, Varkoor, but suffice it to say, these crystals will simply not maintain their stealth properties for any length of time on such a large scale. For a smaller, single vessel, the formulations we've come up with are reliable. But for an entire fleet? It's suicide. I've reworked the calculations a thousand times, and we always arrive at the same conclusion. The bottom line? More research is needed. In my professional opinion, moving forward with the transfer is grossly premature."

Vowrawn nodded in agreement. "I've been leery of the Empire's sponsoring of this mining operation. But Regus has a lot of pull with other members of the Dark Council, particularly Darth Ravage, so they approved Dark Ice immediately."

"Regus will not be happy about this." Varkoor said smoothly.

"Nevertheless, he will have to see reason," Vowrawn insisted.

Varkoor looked at the readouts on her datapad, not really understanding what he was looking at, but his mind going to back and forth between the two men who seemed almost desperate for this transfer to take place. Regus and Malgus both salivated for the Empire to take the Refinery from the Republic, and the whole thing seemed… _off_.

This morning, meeting with Malgus and Regus, the human Sith lord seemed poised to pounce, like a tightly coiled spring. It made Varkoor nervous for reasons he could not identify.

"So tell me what else you've got on Malgus." the younger Sith said as he handed the datapad back to Z'kara.

Z'kara and Vowrawn looked at each other. She sighed. "I suppose you should know, though for the longest time, I didn't see the point in telling you. The past is the past. Let it stay there."

Varkoor narrowed his eyes at his mother. "What are you talking about?"

She pursed her lips. "Information is power. You should be armed as much as possible." She paused and Vowrawn stepped behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders. "Malgus was my father's apprentice."

Varkoor looked baffled for a moment. And then his features darkened like a tempest. "I sensed something about him…a familiarity I could not place. He seemed to notice me in the same fashion."

She shrugged, a sad look coming over her face. "Use the information how you will, my son. I've not seen him since I was a young girl, since…" she closed her eyes. "Knowing he is involved so closely, working with you, it brings it all back." She let out a shaky sigh and turned away from both men, hugging herself.

Varkoor stepped closer to her and turned her around, looking intently into her face. She looked vulnerable, so unlike the facade she put forth all other times. "I don't fear that crazy old man, mother."

That made her smile. "Indeed, you have no reason to. I just wanted you to know. He may try to use it against you."

Varkoor exchanged a look with Vowrawn. He looked back down at his mother. "You know the way of the Sith, mother. There is more you aren't telling me."

She closed her eyes and sighed again. "I'm not a very good Sith, Varkoor. You know me…I ran away from that life, became a scientist so I wouldn't have to go to the Academy…and then you grew up to follow your grandfather's path…" she rambled.

"Mother…" he prompted.

"Malgus murdered my father," she said abruptly.

Varkoor went really still for a moment. Vowrawn watched mother and son placidly, saying nothing.

"I said I was never a very good Sith…not that I was ignorant of the _way_ of the Sith," she finally broke the silence. "I'm not a fool."

Varkoor didn't know what to think. It was true…Sith often murdered their own masters to surpass them. He himself did it. It's just the way things were done in Sith culture. He could not say he felt anything much at all at this revelation. He'd never known his grandfather. He'd died twelve years before his birth. His mother seldom spoke of him.

He looked back down at his mother and felt anger only on her behalf. The sadness she'd always had but hid so well was prominent on her face. It radiated through the Force. He touched her cheek with his knuckle.

"Malgus made an enemy out of me before you told me this, Mother. You have my word…I will end him."

She sucked in a breath and her eyes went wide. "Varkoor, don't—"

"Z'kara." Vowrawn broke in. "Allow your son to avenge you."

* * *

Back on the Scythe, Vette woke up with a start, her skin crawling with sudden uneasiness. She sat up in her bed and looked around the room she shared with Jaesa. Nothing seemed amiss. She heard what she thought was the hiss of the ship's airlock. She could have been imagining it though. She wasn't expecting anyone for a while as the rest of the crew were at the surface.

"Vark? Is that you?"

No answer. She got up and quickly jammed her feet into her tall insulated boots and yanked her tactical belt off of the floor and quickly donned it, shoving her blasters in place.

She stepped gingerly into the common room and saw nothing out of place. She was just about to scold herself for being paranoid when she felt a sharp pain explode in the back of her head before her world went to nothingness.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- There's an easter egg in this chapter inspired by the most amazing rom/com movie in history, Moonstruck. I couldn't resist. In my opinion, it's Nic Cage's magnum opus.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N— For those of you who have faithfully followed this story, allow me to apologize profusely for the delayed update. I homeschool my children and this time of year is always so hectic. Also, I have suffered serious writer's block…but I seem to be over that! Very excited for this story!
> 
> Another note, if you have not read the novel 'Deceived' by Paul S. Kemp, I highly recommend it. It's a fascinating look into the mind of Darth Malgus, the most tragic villain in the SWTOR universe, in my opinion. Failing that, reading through Malgus's entry on wookieepedia will be helpful in gaining context for this story, if you aren't already familiar with him and his lady, Eleena. All that to say, I have been influenced heavily by Kemp's book in writing the bits with Malgus, and wanted to give props where due. *bows to Paul Kemp* :D
> 
> Also, for those who don't know, Rathari appears in-game in the Sith Warrior story, in Nar Shaddaa. LOVE HIM. He keeps inspiring me to reference my favorite movie, Moonstruck. Can't be helped.
> 
> This chapter really earns the Dirty Old Darth™ tag. You've been warned lol.
> 
> Without further delay, I hope you enjoy this chapter.

**Republic Crystal Refinery, Ilum**

The golden beams of Jaesa's saber staff parried the shots of enemy forces with graceful economy of movement. She bellowed a battle cry as more Cathar commandoes and assault droids blundered into her trap.

Lord Rathari crouched in a fighting stance next to Varkoor, hidden in the shadows. Both Sith warriors had their lightsabers ready to ignite as they watched the nimble young woman dance her alluring taunts, her shield generator shimmering each time her enemies' shots made it past her saber.

"She is the perfect woman…a dazzling warrior goddess," Rathari murmured in awe, half to himself and under his breath. His green eyes glowed with fervor beneath his cowl as he followed Jaesa's every move.

Varkoor smirked as he watched for the opening his apprentice would provide with her skillful maneuvering. "Careful, Rathari…toy with Jaesa and you trifle with your own longevity."

"I would do _anything_ for her to look upon me with favor!" Rathari vowed.

Varkoor snorted scornfully, discomfited by the man's ardent declarations. "I wouldn't say that too loud. She might very well demand your blood."

Rathari smiled beatifically, the Force gathering around him as he prepared to charge. He growled, "But at her hands, my lord…what a way to go!"

The pureblood rolled his eyes, though his amusement was evident. "She'll have your ballsack for an accessory," he muttered softly as they both became a blur in the Force.

Across the room, Jaesa grunted with her efforts, having garnered the angry attention of all the Republic soldiers and technicians in the area. "A little help here, guys!" she called out irritably. The Cathar commandos laughed as they hefted their hand cannons, shooting area covering blasts of mortar fire in Jaesa's vicinity. They did not take into account the two deadly Sith lords who were currently charging right for them. She blew out a sigh of relief as she side stepped to make way for them.

Rathari snarled as he swiftly dispatched the Cathar warrior harrying Jaesa. He spun around with a wicked laugh, plunging his lightsaber into the chest of one running up behind him.

Varkoor was a blur of constant motion behind him, making quick work of the converging soldiers and assault droids. Rathari cut his eyes to Jaesa, sidling up to her, the two of them back to back as they met another wave of commandos. She glared over her shoulder. "Took you long enough! I'm good but I'm not _that_ good!"

"Nonsense. You were a cunning and bewitching siren luring these fools to their deaths," he rumbled smoothly.

"Ugh…don't you know when to lay off the flirting?" Jaesa snapped as they fought in tandem.

"It's only the honest truth, my dear…you're a vision in battle."

She yelped as the Republic soldier she'd been holding off lunged for her, getting close enough to slash at her with a vibroknife. Rathari blocked the Cathar's attack on Jaesa with a blast of the Force that blew the soldier several feet backward. The deep purple of his saber left hazy tracers before her eyes as he hurled his weapon in an arc that tore through the Cathar's guts before slapping back into his outstretched palm. The sudden quiet and a quick look around told her they'd been rather efficient. The room was littered with bodies.

Varkoor jogged over to one of the doorways in the massive room that was barred by a purplish ray shield. "You two check the other ray shields. We're at the end of the line. Stay sharp…the crystals'll be guarded by Jedi Masters and their acolytes."

"Of course, my lord," Rathari replied.

Imperial backup troopers were already filing in, securing the perimeter. Loader droids marched in behind, waiting to loot the precious crystal haul to the hanger for the Empire. Jaesa looked up at Rathari and pursed her lips. He gazed down at her with an intensity that made her want to run…or find a maintenance closet to yank him into like last night. Stars, why did he have to smell so damn good? Sleazy bastard. She huffed and stomped off to do her Master's bidding. Rathari fell into step right beside her. Imperial soldiers were everywhere, taking possession of the Refinery.

"Come to the opera with me," he implored reverently.

Jaesa gawked incredulously. "Has the infernal dark side completely addled your brain? We're in the middle of a warzone!" she hissed as she glanced around to see if anyone heard them.

"When we finish here, and return to Dromund Kaas, allow me the honor of escorting you to the opera. Just one night. That's all I ask."

" _What_ have you been _smoking_?!"

"Please, Jaesa. There are only two things in this galaxy that inspire me beyond all reason: you…and the opera. Grant me this boon of having both together in one night and I shall be satisfied to give up…the rest of my life!"

"I'm not going anywhere with you! For one thing, you're a degenerate pervert," she informed him haughtily.

They reached the far edge of the immense cavernous room where an enormous piece of mining equipment sat in a corner near the ray shield guarded doorway. Jaesa squeaked when the hulking Sith pulled her behind the dormant machine.

"You didn't seem to mind last night," he murmured. He tried to cage her, planting both hands on the wall, well hidden from prying eyes.

"Will you _please_ focus on the task at hand?" She whined in annoyance, her ears burning at the reminder of her first foray into making out in broom closets. She ducked under one of his arms to head over to the ray shield panel, and out of this tempting dark corner with a persistent, albeit criminally attractive Sith lord. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her back into his arms before she could react.

She pushed against his chest and let out an outraged gasp when he grinned devilishly down at her, waggling his eyebrows. When he didn't release her, she delivered a stinging slap to his cheek, so hard it turned his head to the side. Jaesa realized immediately from past experience such an action would have opposite the desired effect. Rathari shuddered with an ecstatic groan, tightening his arms around her.

"Ahhh….do that _again_ , my sweet."

"Have you lost your _Force forsaken mind?_ I was right! You're completely debauched! Let go of me!" His masculine scent washed over her and she tried really hard not to notice.

He leaned down to nuzzle her neck, his breath and the faint stubble from his jaw tickling her flesh. "You are my weakness…I can feel your desire through the Force," he breathed. His mouth closed over her hammering pulse, beside the suspicious injury already gracing her neck. He nipped and sucked hard enough to make her wince and gasp. Despite her irritation with his relentless flirting and overdone antics, her eyes dropped closed in pleasure and her knees went weak at his painfully erotic attentions. His effect on her officially overshadowed her good sense. If she were honest with herself, she hadn't really wanted to discourage him at all. This must be her penance for meddling in Vette's and Master Varkoor's love life.

She'd just have to cope with the hardship and take control of the situation.

With her lip curled in a smirk, Jaesa grabbed his head in both hands and ferociously crashed her mouth to his. She moaned as she gave in to her attraction to him. He was a pest, but that didn't change the fact that he was a fantastic kisser. One more moment of indiscretion surely wouldn't hurt…

His response was as eager as a ravenous manka cat, punctuated by feral growls as he quickly dominated the kiss. She whimpered and hooked her leg over his hip, nearly fainting as he ground against her. They groped each other like libidinous teenagers, snarling as each of them tried to exert dominance over the other. Their teeth clacked and nipped in desperation. Jaesa finally wrenched away with a gasp, breathless and disheveled. He tried to follow her to recapture her mouth but she pushed her finger against his lips. He growled and tried to nip the digit. She took a moment to catch her breath.

"Stop it. We need to come to an understanding, Rathari. I will go to the opera with you only on one condition."

"Anything, my darling…"

"You will promise to behave yourself long enough to finish this mission," she demanded imperiously.

Rathari was besotted and inflamed as he nodded quickly, his face lighting up at her acceptance. He panted, "I promise on my honor as a Sith."

Rathari reluctantly released her as she stepped back from him with a disbelieving snort and smoothed the front of her robes, jutting her chin out primly, all business once again. "OK, then. We have work to do."

He tried to snake his arm around her waist, but was soundly rebuffed. She swatted him away, her hands glowing with a soft pale light. She smirked in triumph. "Ah ah ah! _Behave_!"

Rathari, powerful Sith lord in his own right, was reduced to a quivering and happily obedient slave in that moment. He purred as her light skated over his flesh. "Oh _yes_ , my lady," he rumbled.

"And that means keeping your grabby hands to yourself."

She sashayed over to the ray shield panel, letting her hips sway a bit more than necessary. She glanced saucily over her shoulder only to see him clenching and unclenching his hands, looking tortured. As far as she was concerned, Rathari was going to have to work for it.

* * *

Varkoor's stony gaze zeroed in on the center of the room as he, Rathari and Jaesa strode into Admiral Shai's headquarters in the Refinery. His eyes cut to the two of them and he was surprised to see Jaesa with an incriminating injury darkening on her neck and Rathari radiating lust through the Force. Varkoor rolled his eyes but said nothing. They'd proven to be more than effective in their duties despite their dalliance, or whatever it was, the two of them bringing down a Jedi Master that guarded the crystals.

Varkoor couldn't say he much blamed Rathari…he himself felt similarly for Vette, indeed he would be with her right now if not for this bleeding mission. He tamped down his impatient desire as he imagined the beautiful Twi'lek who dominated his thoughts.

The heavily armored war leader had his back to them as they approached. He stood within the containment area of a ray shield, though it was not currently activated. Varkoor knew he was aware of their presence. The man's casual regard for Imperial intrusion into his inner sanctum was disquieting. Surely the admiral knew he was backed into a corner, his base was taken, overrun and controlled by the Empire. Any posturing he did now would just be token defiance. Varkoor found himself strangely intrigued. He stopped and held up a hand in a signal for his companions to hold their positions. He felt Jaesa's and Rathari's coiled tension through the Force and knew they watched and waited.

Admiral Shai stood with his hands clasped behind his back and didn't even bother turning around. "I hope one day you realize the futility of all of this, Sith."

Varkoor decided to play along. He folded his arms. "Perhaps I already do."

The admiral turned around to face him, revealing the tired, careworn face of a middle aged man, though this was the same man who'd attempted to blow up the entire Imperial base if not for Varkoor's intervention. The Sith lord narrowed his eyes.

"You've just claimed the crystals for the Empire. Do you really think you've achieved victory here today?" Shai said.

"I don't just think it, Admiral, I know it," Varkoor replied calmly. Something unnamed and restless churned in his gut.

Admiral Shai shook his head sadly. "Now the Empire will build their Armada…the Republic in turn will find a way to detect it, to destroy it. And then, the Empire will build something bigger, and better…and on and on and on…"

"Come now, Admiral. You can't possibly be this maudlin all the time." Varkoor spoke as if he were reassuring a child.

Admiral Shai growled, "Don't you see? The conclusion of this pointless game will be nothingness. We will eventually destroy each other! Where does your precious love of conflict get you then, when you have nothing left to conquer?"

Varkoor sneered sarcastically, purposely goading the old soldier. "I cannot imagine a more glorious end." He didn't really believe that, and felt Jaesa's stern disapproval through the Force.

Still, something wasn't right, it gnawed at his bones…and despite his curiosity with this man, he wanted to be done with this mission.

The Admiral paced back and forth as if he lectured a student, his hands clasped behind his back. "What's glory? When everything is destroyed? You Sith lust for conflict and domination…don't you realize those things can never be ends in and of themselves? That they leave nothing enduring? The Republic is no better. It merely feeds the Empire's lust. We are two sides of the same coin. I acknowledge this, Sith. We are the same. Futility…" he slashed the air before him with his hand, "all of it."

Varkoor narrowed his eyes and activated his lightsaber. He heard the hiss of Jaesa's and Rathari's behind him. "Enough monologuing, Admiral. I do not dispute the truth of your sentiments. I simply don't care at the moment. I know for a fact the crystals will not work long term. The Stealth Fleet is the pipe dream of old traditionalists."

Varkoor advanced slowly like a predator upon the weary Admiral. "Be that as it may, the base, and the crystals now belong to the Empire. And you've reached the end of your career with the Republic."

Varkoor frowned beneath his cowl when the Admiral chuckled softly. Rathari growled behind him.

Admiral Shai smiled and replied almost in a friendly tone of voice. "It's fascinating to me how the Sith eat their own," he said cryptically. "no matter your personal efforts or motivations, your extinction is inevitable. And it will come from within." He jutted his chin out defiantly, his eyes bright but completely devoid of fear or malice. "Kill me as it is in your nature to do so. It will not stop your fate. Or the fate of the Empire."

Varkoor stepped closer, trying hard to hide his agitation at the Admiral's words. He couldn't help a small measure of admiration for the man's self-possessed demeanor. "You know who the traitor is. You will tell me. Now."

Shai's expression grew deadly serious. "I gather you've known for a while your Empire has been betrayed from within. I will tell you, as I know the damage to the Empire is already done and I imagine it will all come out soon anyway."

"Master…I have a bad feeling about—" Jaesa began. Suddenly, Varkoor roared like a beast and snatched the air in front of him into a cruel fist. Shai began gasping and choking for breath. His serenity and resignation only infuriated the Sith lord, and fed a growing unnamed panic in his belly. He hissed through clenched teeth, " _Tell me who it is!_ "

Admiral Shai gurgled and sputtered. "Like…I said…the Sith always…eat their own…"

Jaesa gasped and rushed forward when the Admiral began to turn purple. Varkoor's skin tingled as she laid her glowing hand upon his arm. "Master! Please…let him live. He's tired…so tired. He's not lying. He said he would tell you! Master!" she begged when it seemed Varkoor would not heed her. Rathari stepped up right behind her looming protectively, glaring at the Admiral from beneath his dark hood, his lightsaber still humming malevolently.

Finally, Varkoor released Shai, swearing a foul oath and turning away in fury. The man dropped to his knees taking in huge gulps of air, grabbing his throat. He looked up, his gaze shifting between Varkoor and Jaesa in surprise. Varkoor clenched and unclenched his fists.

" _Say his name,_ " The huge pureblood spoke through clenched teeth.

"I think you already know that Darth Malgus has been playing the Republic and the Empire for fools," Admiral Shai rasped, rubbing his throat.

Varkoor whirled around to glare at the beaten man, his red eyes flashing in barely contained rage. Finally, he gestured sharply to the Imperial guardsmen who stood by, cowering in fear of his wrath, and awaiting his command. "Take him. I will deal with him later." He stalked off toward the entrance to the massive hanger where the crystal transfer was already taking place.

"Right away, my lord." The guardsman saluted smartly and gestured for his men to arrest the Admiral.

A horrible realization began to coalesce in his mind. Varkoor charged into the hanger. Nothing seemed amiss. Imperial cargo shuttles were being loaded with the bounty of the Refinery, efficiently and according to plan. They were already carrying the crystals to the Fleet that was currently moored in Ilum's lower atmosphere, going back and forth, like an efficient hive. His eyes came to rest upon the holo image of Darth Malgus conversing with one of the Imperial commanders overseeing the transfer in the hanger.

Darth Malgus met his gaze in placid challenge.

"Greetings, Wrath. You've played your part with stunning efficiency. Well done. I knew the moment I laid eyes on you that you would be my instrument in the acquisition of Ilum's resources. You will await my instructions. We have much to discuss. Meanwhile, your dear Grand Moff will likely need your…reassurance."

The image flickered and was gone before anyone could react.

* * *

**Fort Barrow, Ilum**

Darth Malgus glanced out the viewport of his personal shuttle, the desolate wasteland of ice a white mass of nothingness.

The crystals were finally within the possession of the New Empire.

The time had come. All that for which he had toiled over the span of four decades was finally about to come to fruition. His mind went back to a time when he'd had the destruction of a decadent Republic within his power and grasp, only to be thwarted and betrayed by his own Empire.

That same Empire did not know, that even now, it was experiencing its own death throes. Their faith and hubris would spell their demise. Playing at peace was atrophy. Only through conflict could potential be realized.

The Empire as it stood now had rotted, the stench of its own excess and gluttony would soon burn under the cleansing of the Force.

It started with the Sith's retaking of the holy world of Korriban. The first symbolic ritual cleansing had started with Vindican, his Master. He sneered when he remembered his last failure.

He knew with certainty that his vision from Korriban, after burying his Master, would come full circle. He had not been thwarted on Coruscant. The Force had merely delayed him. The ascension of his Master's grandson to the rank of Empire's Wrath now, at this time, was exquisite fate. It was the perfection of the Force made manifest.

Malgus would break Varkoor of his inherited weakness and mold an unstoppable weapon.

The pilot's voice crackled over the speaker, interrupting his musings. "We've arrived at Fort Barrow, my lord. Darth Serevin awaits you in the hanger."

Darth Malgus descended the ramp of his shuttle amidst the hissing of hydraulic steam. Shrouded within a voluminous cloak, he strode past his honor guard, not slowing down as a regally attired Pureblood Sith lord fell into step beside him, his bearing deferential and refined.

"Congratulations, Emperor Malgus. It is my understanding that the New Empire is now outfitted with an almost fully operational stealth Armada. What a splendid day this is indeed," Darth Serevin oozed mildly.

Malgus was never one for small talk. "Where has the girl been kept since her arrival?"

"The Twi'lek is being held in the apartments adjacent to your own quarters, as you requested, my lord."

"Very good, Serevin. I will be addressing the HoloNet in one hour. Until then, I am not to be disturbed."

"If I may beg a moment, my lord Emperor…"

"Provided you are brief."

"Of course. I have had the opportunity to observe the Wrath in action while stationed on Voss, my lord. I've not seen power like his in decades. Truly remarkable. I trust you are…prepared for his reprisal for taking the girl. His passions for her run deep."

Darth Malgus halted and turned to face the pureblood. He waved a hand dismissively. "Anticipated. Potential like his is precisely the thing the New Empire needs. Anything else, Serevin?"

Darth Serevin smiled ingratiatingly and hesitated before speaking. "If I may be so bold, Lord Emperor, might your…personal business with the Wrath be a superfluous complication? Especially at this juncture?"

Malgus bristled, but otherwise did not let on that Serevin's question irritated him. "My business is never superfluous, Serevin."

"Of course not. I merely wish to raise a valid concern. With aggression from two fronts anticipated at any time, I want to make sure the New Empire is not compromised from the outset by…distractions."

"I see where you are going with this, Serevin, but your concerns are groundless. My priority is the strength of the New Empire."

"I only mean—"

"Will that be all, Darth Serevin?" Malgus's voice was hard as flint.

Serevin tipped his head in submission. "Yes…my Emperor."

* * *

Darth Malgus stared at the sleeping Twi'lek. Taking her was a straightforward exercise in mathematics. It was simple, really. She was leverage…an obvious weakness of Varkoor's to exploit. What he did not anticipate was for her scent to nearly drive him to his knees.

The aroma of her filled the room, past his breathing apparatus…along with long suppressed memories. He ripped the hated thing off his face and growled, rubbing his stubbly jaw with one hand.

Malgus had believed only his Eleena possessed such a singularly arresting scent. But this Twi'lek proved his theory false. It was musky and tangy, a sharp feminine bouquet that insinuated itself into rational thought. It clouded his focus. It brought to mind moments when Eleena would walk past him while attending to some mundane task in their home and Malgus would forget all about his purpose as a Sith, and lose himself to her beguiling sorcery.

The sharp angles of squares would round into circles and time would become meaningless.

His lungs burned and labored as he breathed unassisted. It felt good. Moments of the past were brittle shards into his consciousness and the orderliness of his purpose. His eyes fixed upon the pleasing curve of the girl's hip. The sensuous coil of one lekku draped over her shoulder.

She was so small. Breakable. Deceptively so.

Weakness stole over his limbs as he found his mind clouding with cascading snapshots into the past. A lesser Sith would have doubled over from the agony.

Eleena…statuesque and lethal, killing his enemies without hesitation…saying his name in anger, without fear. Crying out in the height of passion. _Veradun._

Eleena…steadfast and loyal, his only friend, his lover. His conscience.

Eleena…his only weakness.

As the years passed, his desire to focus his regret and longing into fury had tempered, as he'd purged himself completely of emotion.

Or so he thought.

In death, Eleena had become his greatest strength, her memory the catalyst of his rage. As a warrior bent on conflict, such a thing had served him well.

As a man who paused to reflect, her death was a monument to his failure.

For the first time in twelve years, Malgus felt like a man again…and he wanted desperately to escape the inevitability that hounded him. He remained stoic, his nostrils flaring as this young one's fragrance washed over him and reminded him of things he'd thought had been obliterated.

A languid warmth settled over Malgus. He compartmentalized the rapacious lust her presence inspired and subjected it to his will. He continued to stare at the curving slope of her hip and the way her beautiful lekku coiled over her shoulder. For how many minutes, he didn't keep track.

* * *

Vette woke up slowly and painfully, with a few false starts that made her feel like she was going to lose her breakfast. She groaned. She felt like she had a bitch of a hangover.

She tried to blink through crusty eyelids. This did not feel at all like her sleeping rack on the _Scythe_.

"Where the hell am I?" she muttered, staring at a nondescript ceiling and feeling utterly disoriented.

"You are perfectly safe, under the protection of the New Empire."

Vette froze, wakefulness seizing her like icy fingers of dread. She knew that voice, but she'd never heard it quite like this.

Vette squeezed her eyes closed a couple of times and opened them fully, willing her sight to focus upon the underside of Jaesa's bunk, that she knew must be right above her. She must be having one of those kolto-induced dreams. It wouldn't surprise her…she'd inhaled enough of the stuff yesterday thanks to that careless medic. She suddenly felt her skin crawl inexplicably, with the knowledge that someone was looking at her.

 _That voice…what fresh hell is this?_ "Vark…?" she whimpered.

"Your fear is unnecessary. No harm will come to you."

 _Kark me sideways._ She whined and went really still. This was no dream. This was a nightmare.

Vette jerked her head in the direction of the deep and somewhat ragged voice that was much too close for her comfort. Her stomach lurched.

Darth Malgus. In the flesh. Wife murdering psycho…only this time, the respirator was gone. What was normally covered was likely at one time a roguishly handsome visage…but for the frightful scarring and deathly white pallor.

His nostrils quivered. His full lips smirked faintly, which certainly did not bode well for her.

He sat back, reclined in a massive chair, long muscular legs crossed at the ankles stretched out before him, all serpentine grace and devastating power encased in black durasteel and leather. Panic bubbled in her belly and she began to shake uncontrollably. Franging hells, he was _stupidly huge_.

"H-how did I get here? What do you want with me?" her voice was tiny.

The Sith lord regarded her for a long moment, his milky yellow gaze tranquil.

"You are a commodity, my dear. But also, a nostalgic reminder of the last shreds of my humanity. For the moment, I simply want conversation."

Vette realized she was still lying down, and _What The Hell_ was she doing that for with this guy in the same room? And karking crap on crackers, what did he mean ' _for the moment_ '? That had an ominous ring to it and she didn't want to consider the implications. She sat up quickly, noting she was on an overstuffed sofa of some sort, thankfully still wearing exactly everything she had on when she collapsed on top of the covers of her bed, still fully clothed. She was even covered with a blanket.

She quirked a brow at his words and gave him an incredulous look. "You want _conversation_? Are you _serious_?"

When he chuckled it was even more frightening than she imagined it could be. "I am always serious…Vette."

She sucked in a breath, fresh terror seizing her that this guy would say her name. _I'm going to die here…right after enduring something spectacularly awful._

She suddenly remembered Korriban. A hopeless situation in which she clutched what little fortitude she possessed and showed those gizka-brained Imps what twi'leks were made of! She steeled her spine and looked at Malgus like he was Jailer Knash.

"Well, care to clue me in on what the hell is going on and why I'm here?" she drawled disinterestedly, her heart pounding like a caged bird in her chest. Jailer Knash was an insect. Malgus was…definitely not.

Darth Malgus made a sound in his throat that could have been associated with amusement or his respiratory ailment. Vette couldn't be sure. Whatever it was, it scared the shit out of her and it was all she could do not to break down completely. She glared hard at him. Jerk.

* * *

Malgus inhaled greedily, allowing himself that indulgence, trying with difficulty to ignore the stirrings her tempting presence awakened. His lungs screamed.

He waved a hand at her, dismissing her fear. His voice sounded gravelly. "In just a few minutes, I will declare a New Empire, over the HoloNet. You are leverage. I require the aid of your Sith. Bringing you here is the surest way to secure it."

_Eleena. Conflict, evolution…perfection. You would have understood._

Vette gulped. "So I'm a…hostage. Greeeaaat." Then she frowned in confusion. "Wait…say what? New Empire? Umm. Oooookay, then."

Malgus was rather enjoying himself. She was…entertaining.

"Why do you stay willingly with a Sith?" he gestured absently to her neck, indicating a lack of slave collar.

Her cheeks colored and her expression turned stormy. Her fury was a thing to be savored and the longer he sat here in her presence, the more she tempted him.

"I don't _stay_ with Vark!" she snapped indignantly.

"Indeed not?"

"No! I'm…I work as a…contractor…er, an employee!" she jutted her chin out defiantly.

"An employee," Malgus repeated blandly. He raised one hairless brow.

His eyes hooded in amusement when her scowl deepened. "Don't _even_ go there, buster. I provide combat and technical support."

"So there's no physical attachment between yourself and your…employer. I clearly misjudged the situation. I may have overestimated your value to him," he said, his voice dripping condescending sarcasm.

Her mouth dropped open and her face flushed most becomingly. How long had it been since he'd angered a woman? His chest rumbled in appreciation. He was starting to feel twenty years old again, and he doubted she was aware of her precarious position.

"What?! N-no! I mean…Vark and I…what I mean is, he's my, um…I'm his…what exactly are you insinuating?" she stuttered.

Malgus grunted as he got up from his chair. He ignored her question.

She shrank back in fear as he prowled over to her and leaned down, planting his hands on the back of the sofa, caging her, his face inches from hers. She leaned back further into the cushions, a whimper escaping her feigned bravado as he breathed in great draughts of her scent.

Perhaps he would keep her.

Dark desire clouded his thoughts further. As much as he wanted to possess her, and as delicious as her fear was, it reminded him of the distant past. Conquest of this nature could only come through patience. He could wait.

He could make a square into a circle now. Things were different.

Vette glared hatefully at him as she trembled in terror. "Y-you should have left me alone. He'll kill you."

Malgus's expression softened, almost affectionately. He leaned closer, drawn to the diaphanous barrier where her pulse hammered on the side of her slender neck. He leaned close enough so that his mouth barely touched her flesh as he spoke in a rough rumble, "Child…he's welcome to try."


End file.
